A Different Point of View
by Ty Parsec
Summary: We've all seen the movie. But one monster's side of the story has yet to be told. And it's told by Randall Boggs himself - through his eyes and from his heart. Is he really the ruthless villian he's portrayed to be? Or is there something more?
1. Forever Second Best?

**A Different Point of View   
by Randall Boggs**   
  
JOY'S FOREWARD: I just had to stop writing my third fic - Spy Game - for a little while to let Randall do this. Don't worry everyone, I'll get around to putting the next chapter of SG up eventually. But after hanging out on the Boggs' Board and discussing so many things about Randall, I thought I needed to let ya'll in on his story. The movie is basically seen from Sulley and Mike's point of view. . .totally shadowing out Randall's part in all of this and casting him as simply a "hard core villian" - all without giving him any say (or explaination) in the matter.   
  
So, why do so many fans love Randall? Perhaps it's because he's "real". Randall probably hasn't lived some 'happily ever after' fairy tale life. No human has. So, I think people can relate to him in one way or another - some people more than others. He's not the villian alot of people say he is. And this story might help explain why. You can form your own opinions about whether you agree with me on any of this or not. It makes sense for the large part. But, at the very least, his story must be told. From here on Randall will take over, but I just had to include this for you.   
  
Oh yeah! How silly of me. . .Randall Boggs, Monsters Inc, and everything pertaining to the movie that's not mine is copyrighted to Disney/PIXAR. Yeah, that includes the leaves on the trees too.   
  
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**Author's Word**   
  
You've seen Monsters Inc, right? Yeah. . .so have I - in fact, I was very much a part of it. For those of you who don't know, I'm the "purple, lizard thing" - preferrably named "Randall". Though, I'm assuming, most of you humans are intelligent enough to put two and two together. As for the rest of you, I can't help ya - go buy a VCR and rent the movie. Or, on second thought, why don't you just read my story? Yeah, you heard right. MY story.   
  
What's that you say? Ya haven't heard it? That's probably cuz the directors at PIXAR thought you didn't NEED to know. Yeah. They didn't think you needed any 'clueing-in' to my side of the story (if they actually thought I had "a side"). Frankly, it seems, they didn't care to hear it either. So, I've decided - since they're not going to give me so much a good word - I'll do the hard work of explaining everything myself. All I can do is hope you'll read it, since paying for TV advertisement or even a stinkin' commercial is beyond my financial abilities.   
  
Anyhow, here's my story - I hope you enjoy hearing from a different point of view. . .Yeah, and it would be cool if you reviewed my story and let me know what ya think of it so far.   
  
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**Chapter One - Forever Second-best?**   
  
For me, everything REALLY started on a summer morning, waaay before the movie. Probably somewhere around twenty years, if you really want to know the specifics. But I suppose that would take me way too long to explain and, typing properly with only three fingers on each hand, is more difficult than you might think. So, I'll just clue you in on past events here and there as we go along. Just keep up with me and it'll all come together. I'm basically letting the keys type for me as I go. In fact, I remember everything as if it had just happened yesterday. . .unfortunately for me.   
  
It was morning of the same day the movie began (which was, like, only a day before my life was thrown into further chaos). I was in my room, trying to get some shuteye. Cuz, frankly, I was tired enough to sleep on just about anything - especially if it was warm and soft. Yesterday, we taped the new MI commercial. Not like I was too thrilled about that. Normally, I'd love to have a chance to be in the spotlight (for once), but I just plain wasn't feeling too good. I didn't want to do it. I TOLD Waternoose how I was feeling and that I didn't want to do it. He made me do it anyways. Doesn't it just figure? At least that's over with. Another reason was that the night before I had been up late working on a little contraption I call "The Scream Extractor", as I had done night after night before.   
  
The darned thing had taken a big chunk out of my life (not much less than a month of it) ever since I agreed to build it for my boss, Mr. Waternoose. Yup. It was his idea, contrary to popular belief. Supposedly, he needed a machine to remedy the so-called crisis of his, so he called on me to oversee and do the actual construction and design of the Scream Extractor (or SE, as I like to call it). But I'll explain more about that later, I'm drifting off too far (I can just see my English teachers reading this, disgusted at how sloppy my storytelling is).   
  
Anyhow, back to scene one. I was in bed, debating with myself whether to get up early to go work on that stupid machine again or sleep in. That was an easy choice. I opted for my bed. But then my better judgement bumped in and told me otherwise (doncha just hate it when that happens?). I knew if I didn't get the SE done on the deadline, I'd be a dead lizard. Or, to be more precise, I'd probably be fired. And, with the city in such an energy crisis, I'm sure finding a good job would be slim pickings, to say the least. So, I really couldn't afford the lay-off. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.   
  
Finally, after a few minutes of grumbling, I. . .went back to sleep. Stubborn - yes. Stupid - no. I convinced my better judgement to shut up and give me some sleep already. *laughs* No, just kiddin'. Actually, I convinced myself I could work in some extra hours around lunchtime and later that night. I needed sleep and that was pretty much over-riding anything else I had on my schedule at the time. I mean, c'mon. . .I was dead-beat tired, man!   
  
But things have a way of changing, as they say. That they did. Just as I began to drift-off again, this loud, annoying noise rang in my ear. And, oh wonder-of-wonders, it was Fungus. The guy really doesn't know the meaning of "leave me alone" yet. Though, I swear, he's read every book and dictionary in the tri-county area. I suppose cramming all of that in his brain short-circuited his memory or something. Don't ask me. I'm just glad I'm not him.   
  
"Come on Randall!" he urged me, pulling the covers off my body - and my bed. "We need to get to work on the Scream Extractor! Not to mention conducting the daily warm-up routines!"   
  
Oh goody.   
  
"Just leave me alone, okay Fungus?" I replied, trying to sound exactly how I felt. In a last ditch effort to block him out, I stuffed the pillow over my head.   
  
"But we have so much to do today!" Fungus jabbered on. He was so annoyingly cheery, it made me wish I hadn't told him my address.   
  
I took the pillow off my head and stared at him - hard. "What time is it?" I asked pointedly, hoping he'd get a clue.   
  
"About five in the morning," Fungus said as if it were normal, which (lately) it kinda was. "We can collect scream canisters, build the machine, practice scare techniques, fill out paperwork. . ." He went on and on.   
  
Listening to those words made me feel sick to my stomach. I was tired of early work hours. I was tired of the stupid Scream Extractor. I was tired of my boss. I was tired of being tired. And, most of all, I was tired of Fungus. Cheerful, wasn't I? Well, when you go through what I did, you're not exactly acting like Mr. Sunshine - I can tell you that much.   
  
Before I could say anything, Fungus pulled my bedroom shade open with a snap and nearly blinded me. That was just enough to make me get out of bed. No way could I sleep with him in the house. I hoped to kick Fungus' behind for such a rude wake-up call, but he left the room before I had the chance. So, having nothing else to do, I sighed deeply and picked my crumpled bed covers up off the floor. I sloppily made my bed (yeah, sorry Mom) and made it into the kitchen, on the hunt for breakfast. If I wasn't getting sleep, at least I could get breakfast.   
  
I rummaged through the cupboards for a few minutes (yup, Fungus was still jabbering on) and settled on a couple donuts and a glass of orange slime. Hey, if I was going to choke down donuts for breakfast, the least I could do is get something healthy to drink. I was gonna need the lift. After several days of eating donuts, I found out you get really feel dragged-down by the end of the day. Fungus suggested I drink slime. Well, at least he's good for something.   
  
I took a quick glance at the wall clock and saw it was already five-twenty. I didn't want to go to work, but I dragged myself out the door all the same. I mean, I love my work and all - don't get me wrong - but the extra hours were really weighing me down. Once we got to Monsters Inc, I shoved the door open. It whacked Fungus in the face. I didn't really mean to do that. I, actually, kinda. . .forgot he was there. Heh heh.   
  
Anyhow, I continued on my way past the receptionist's desk. Ceila was standing there, flirting with Wazowski in the mushiest way possible. I saw it and thought I'd puke (even Sullivan kinda looked like he thought it was stupid). Googley Bear? Schmootsy Poo? What kind of stupid names are those? Anyways, I kept going. I wasn't in the mood to talk to them. In fact, I'm NEVER in the mood to talk with them. Hey, distance is a good thing when it comes to your rivals.   
  
I headed towards the locker room (mens', mind you). Fungus followed me like a jelly bean-shaped shadow. I told him to bug off. He did (thank goodness). So, I finally had some time alone as I approached my locker. I pulled out a can of "Condensed Fog" and plopped down on one of the benches. I like to spray it on my fronds before I begin scaring. It sticks for awhile and keeps my body cool for about fifteen minutes as I work. Reptillian thing, I guess. I sprayed it on my fronds and stopped suddenly to listen. I could hear voices coming from the aisle next to me. Didn't take me long to deduct who it was. . .   
  
"Ya know pal," Wazowski was saying. "She's the one. That's it. She. Is. The. ONE!"   
  
"I'm happy for ya," Sullivan replied, then sprayed something from a can.   
  
"Oh, and uh, thanks for hooking me up with those reservations," Wazowski added.   
  
"Oh, no problem," Sullivan replied, suddenly turning to a joking tone. "It's under the name 'Googley Bear'."   
  
I smirked to myself, seeing an opportunity for a grade A scare on Wazowski. After all, a little practical joke couldn't hurt, could it? I quickly vanished from sight and slithered soundlessly to the over-sized olive's locker. This was really going to be fun. I waited for just the right moment. . .   
  
"Oh good ide-" Wazowski paused, looking at Sullivan in an unamused fashion. "Y'know. . .that wasn't funny."   
  
He's not amused by anyone else's jokes but his, it seems.   
  
Suddenly, I slammed his locker shut, hoping to add some mystique to my grand entrance. Wazowski turned to it, gasping a bit. He blinked for a moment and opened it. I slammed it shut again and Wazowski squinted at the "ghost door" in utter confusion.   
  
I suddenly materialized. "Wazowski!"   
  
He screamed, jumped about ten feet in the air, and landed on his back. He was so shocked that he scooted himself as far away as he could from me. I'd say that was one of the best scares I did since yesterday. I couldn't help but chuckle a bit as I watched him. Sullivan didn't say anything, just looked at me in disgust. Makes you feel like you've robbed a bank or something. I just ignored the look he was giving me and glanced at Wazowski in silent amusement.   
  
"Well, whaddya know?" I said, calmly clasping my hands behind my back and smiling. "It scares little kids AND little monsters. . ."   
  
He suddenly turned defiant. "I wasn't scared!" he retorted (or lied - your choice). "I have. . uh. . .allergies." Then he faked a couple of coughs.   
  
"Uh huh. Sure," I replied. Did I really look that stupid to him? If you ask me, he probably could have come up with a better excuse than that.   
  
Sullivan frowned, then finally began defending his buddy (as always). "Hey, Randall. Save it for the Scarefloor will ya?"   
  
Yup, that was it. Not quite the motivational speaker, but what can I say? He used to be the company janitor. I guess you don't get to practice too many speeches while you're polishing the tile, eh? Anyways, I lept up onto the bench and stretched my long, snake-like body, taking a karate stance. I couldn't help but boast a bit, it was in my nature.   
  
I mean, after all, Waternoose DID promise me I'd become a high-ranking executive once I helped drag his company out of this energy crisis (with the SE, of course). So, that thought really boosted my confidence. . .plus I've been doing a ton of practicing. I was almost positive I wouldn't have to eat my words later on.   
  
"I'm in the zone today, Sullivan," I told him, doing some lightning-fast moves. "Gonna be doing some serious scaring. . .Putting up some big numbers!"   
  
Wazowski was unimpressed - as usual. "Wow, that's great Randall. . ." he muttered boredly, as if he were mocking me for even HAVING that thought. "Then it'll be reeeally embarrassing. . .once we break the record first! Ha ha!"   
  
I was peeved - REALLY peeved. I might hate to say this - if I didn't hate Wazowski so much - but he's the biggest bragger this side of Monstropolis. Everyone thinks I'M the only one with that problem, but just look at him. He just THRIVES on rubbing Sullivan's success in my face, no matter how much it hurts my feelings. And that was a nasty blow to my already-lacking self-esteem. Normally, you see, I never let anyone know when they've hurt my feelings - not since high school anyway - so I simply set my jaw and lept down from the bench. I slithered over beside Wazowski.   
  
"Shh, shh, shhh. . ." I hissed, pausing. "Ya hear that? It's the winds of change. . ."   
  
I gave him an exaggerated grin and turned away, letting my expression fall only as I walked off towards the Scarefloor. Sometimes, it seems, they neglect to even acknowledge the fact that I have feelings at all. Maybe I should get used to it. I've been treated this way since grade school. Since my parents died (I was really young then), things just got progressively worse in my life. I don't think I'll ever get used to this. Besides. . .who could?   
  
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"Okay people, eastern seaboard - coming online," Jerry - the head floor manager - announced over the loudspeakers.   
  
I could hear him from the Scarer's port (or whetever ya wanna call it), even with the door closed. I stretched out my legs one-by-one, getting ready for the warm-up. I could hear some of the Scarers chatting and laughing nearby. I glanced in their direction and saw Sulley grinning. He was telling them some undoubtedly fake story about how he miraculously made it to the top within weeks. At least I WORKED for my position.   
  
Word on the street is that Waternoose took favor upon Sullivan (oh yeah, bet you all couldn't guess THAT from watching the movie) and promoted him. He says the guy has talent, but I doubt he has THAT much talent (he was promoted from janitor to elite scarer in one year). For one, I've been working at MI years before Sullivan ever came along - and working hard at that. But does anyone pay any attention to me? No way.   
  
"We've got Scarers coming out," Jerry continued over the loudspeakers.   
  
I was ready.   
  
The door came up and we all walked out, stopping at our respective scare stations. Isn't it ironic that Sullivan's station is right next to mine? It's like some kind of freaky set-up. All around me, monsters were putting in fake teeth, practicing, and all sorts of other stuff. Fungus pulled down backdrops for me to practice against. I changed color to match them in no time flat. It was an exercise I did every morning to keep me in peak scaring condition.   
  
Once I was finished, I felt pumped up and ready to kick Sullivan's behind. I got in position. Now, all I had to do was wait for the starting bell and work my tail off. If I could keep a good rhythm going, I knew I'd be able to beat the All-Time Scare Record before Sullivan did. Fungus did the math and confirmed that as a fact - another thing I find quite useful in him. I was in scare mode, ready to leap into action, when Sullivan suddenly approached me.   
  
I was tempted to ask him to bug off, but I kept my mouth shut.   
  
"Hey," he said, holding out a hand to me. "May the best monster win."   
  
Riiiight. I wasn't really sure if he meant it or not. He obviously wanted me to shake on it and make amends. But I looked at his hand suspiciously for a moment and thought better of it. I'm not about to trust him just because he turns all 'nice-guy' on me. In fact, that was the first time he ever said something nice to me. I figured it was probably because he thought he could beat me anyways. I simply turned my attention back to the door in front of me.   
  
"I plan to," I replied, not in the mood to mess around.   
  
"We are on in seven, six, five, four, three, two. . .one!" Jerry counted down, the starting bell ringing immediately afterwards.   
  
All of the Scarers lept into action, including me. Screams of children and Scarers roaring, growling, and making the scariest noises they could filled the room. I quickly slithered onto the door frame and peeked inside, before leaping inside and scaring the child. Six-year-old. Easy stuff. I continued the cycle, scaring one kid after another. By now, I was getting a pretty smooth rhythm going. I stopped for a moment in the middle of my work to look up at the tally board. Same old, same old.   
  
Sullivan's numbers just continued to climb. That was just SO frustrating! And I thought I was doing really great too. What do I have to do to beat this guy? It was like the whole thing was rigged. . .Little did I know - it was. . .   
  
"You're still behind Randall," Fungus informed me.   
  
Duh.   
  
All the same, he continued to jabber on. "Y'know, maybe I should re-align the scream intake valve. . ."   
  
My numbers continued to lag more and more behind as he spoke, I knew that without even looking at the tally board. So, in frustration, I finally exploded. "Just get me another door!!" I shot back, not allowing him to finish.   
  
Fungus nearly lept out of his skin. "AAHH!! The door. Yes. The door. . ." he mumbled quickly, scrambling towards my scare station.   
  
I knew if he had even half the chance, he would go on talking forever. I didn't have forever. I needed to prove to Sullivan and Wazowski I could, at the VERY least, equal them (if not beat them) - now - before they beat ME to the All-Time Scare Record. If they did that, then I was positive I'd NEVER hear the end of it. I'd be living a nightmare. My kids' kids would walk down the sidewalk and be reminded by Sullivan and Wazowski's own offspring of my failures. It could go on for generations! I was desperate not to let that happen. SO desperate. . .   
  
Plus, being really stressed and tired - as I was - obviously doesn't help better things in the long-run. I found that out the hard way.   
  
I ran into and out of so many doors after that, I don't recall even any approximate number of how many that was. I was just pushing the envelope, trying to get as much as I could in the little slot of time I had left. After that, I REALLY needed to take a rest. I came out of the door, totally winded. My chest heaved up and down as I tried to catch my breath. I was just waiting for Fungus to bring me another door so I could go at it again. I sure hoped all this extra work was paying off. . .   
  
"Uh, sir?" Fungus said meekly, approaching me as if I were an explosive.   
  
"WHAT??" I snapped, turning to him angrilly. Wasn't this guy paid to do his JOB and not tell me how to re-align a scream intake valve? At least, that's what I thought he was going to tell me. . .   
  
Fungus cringed behind his clipboard, fearfully pointing over it - at the tally board. "Look. . ."   
  
I turned around, as if fearful of the numbers I'd see next to Sullivan's name. . .   
  
"Attention, we have a new scare leader," came Ceila's voice. "Randall Boggs."   
  
I almost did a double-take. But it was true! I had finally beaten Sullivan! My defeated expression broke into a big, accomplished smile and I chuckled, folding my arms over my chest. Other monsters (mostly scare assistants) came over to me, shaking my hands and congradulating me. It was a wonderful feeling, I have to tell you. Yup, a feeling that I've known very few times in my life - respect.   
  
Yup. Big surprise to some of you out there who think I'm just some heartless villian. If you ever took a walk in my shoes (so to speak) you'd know just what torture I go through day in and day out. But, any way you slice it, respect was all I was after in the first place. That's why I agreed to work for Waternoose on building the SE. He gave me the subtle promise of respect and recognition. And now I was finally getting a taste of what Sullivan was used to recieving for three years - THREE YEARS for Monstropolis' sake! I was hoping he'd retire last year, but doncha know it? I've never had such luck.   
  
So, I just stood there, enjoying the attention the others were lavishing on me. All of a sudden, I felt like a million bucks. It washed away all of the agony I had gone through late at night struggling with the stupid Scream Extractor. It even threw my exhaustion, hunger, and stress overboard, for the moment. I couldn't help but wink at one of my fellow workers.   
  
Now, this is where I later found out - from a very credible source - where things went wrong. I didn't notice at the time, but behind my back (and Sullivan and Wazowski's), Waternoose was sticking a card key into Sullivan's folder. It stuck out just enough that Wazowski would grab it first, over all of the others tucked away in there. That card key, Waternoose KNEW, led to a group of kids having a party inside.   
  
He did it, probably, to make me just that more desperate to make it to the top and get the respect I wanted so badly. You see, he was using my desperation to be number one to his advantage. That made me loyal to him in building the SE. After learning all of this, I wouldn't be surprised if he caused that scream "shortage" himself - just for the profits it would get 'im.   
  
Kinda like the CEOs at Enron. . .Yeah, I watched a bit of the news after I was chucked into the human world. I believe the same thing happened on what we monsters call the 'eastern seaboard' of America, as what happened in Monstropolis. I dunno what you humans think, but the resemblance is uncanny to me.   
  
Anyways, I was busy being proud of my accomplishment and all that, when the most terrible thing that could have happened. . happened. I heard a round of screams coming from Sullivan's station. Curious, I glanced over at his station. Wazowski was pulling canister after canister out of those holders. My heart sank and that feeling of overwhelming depression settled in my stomach again. My face fell. They had beaten me. . .I could figure that out even before the numbers reached the board.   
  
Sulley gave me a smile (one that made me want to throw up) and cracked his knuckled casually. "Slumber party."   
  
"Nevermind," Ceila said over the loudspeakers again.   
  
My fears were confirmed. I was the loser - again. I frowned as the monsters that surrounded me simply shoved me out of the way to get to Sullivan. I then growled deeply, watching Sullivan give them all high-fives. I swore, he smirked at me once. It was true. Life just WASN'T fair. . .   
  
Waternoose - the rich jerk - approached his "favorite employee" and patted him on the back. Why didn't he pay any attention to ME when I made it to Top Scarer? Oh yeah, too busy spoiling Sullivan. Nevermind.   
  
"Well, James," he said. "That was an impressive display!"   
  
Sullivan just shrugged. "Oh, just doing my job, Mr. Waternoose," he replied, smiling. "Of course, I did learn from the best!"   
  
They both laughed like old friends and I watched on in jealousy. Yeah, I'll admit it, now. I was totally jealous. Here I was, stuck working overtime (WITHOUT extra pay, mind you) for my boss on a machine he couldn't even pronounce, nonetheless build for himself and all I got was the usual ignorant treatment and the number two spot. Talk about a rip-off.   
  
I sure hoped he would be more trustworthy on his promise to make me a high-ranking executive, if this Scream Extractor really worked (sure it would, I designed it - with Waternoose's approval, of course). But, we wrote a simple contract, sealing the agreement we had. I made sure of it. I'm not as stupid as most monsters think. So, he can't drop the fact that he signed on it. At least I had that assurance.   
  
Anyhow, I glanced at Fungus for a moment to see how outraged he was of this. I was shocked. It seemed like he was actually enjoying the scene! That was it. I had reached the end of my rope. I glared at him furiously.   
  
"If I don't see a new door in my station in FIVE seconds. . ." I began, my body shaking with anger as I addressed my only "friend". "I will personally put YOU through the SHREDDER!!"   
  
Fungus cringed even more away from me as I yelled at him. He finally lept in fright, as he heard my threat to use the shredder on him, and ran off to do as he was ordered. I just watched him run off, glaring after him. I was going to beat Sullivan in scaring one of these days. . .I'd prove I was just as worthy of respect as he was. No matter what it took. 


	2. A Walk in My Shoes

**A Different Point of View   
by Randall Boggs**   
  
Joy's Note: The relationship between Randall and Boo will be explained later on as the story progresses, but for right now, enjoy this chapter! Randall and I love your reviews so far, keep 'em coming.   
  
Oh yeah, and a special "thank you" goes out to Sean Fogle for being this fiction's beta reader! Your opinions are well appreciated. ^_^   
  
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**Chapter Two - A Walk in My Shoes**   
  
It was later that day, after work, when I finally finished building the Scream Extractor. I stood in front of my invention, showing my boss the final masterpiece. He seemed pretty satisfied. He should have. I spent hour upon hour in the early processes redesigning the blueprints to fit HIS model of perfection. So, if he doesn't like it, I'm not gonna hesitate to let him know how I feel. I have to admit, at least, *I* was pretty proud of my workmanship. It was a big, sleek machine and it would work, I could almost guarantee that.   
  
Waternoose rubbed his chin as he looked it over. "Well done, my boy, I have to say," he told me, patting my shoulder. "It's exactly what I've been hoping for."   
  
I smiled confidently, my machine having gotten the "Waternoose Seal of Approval", and leaned my upper arm on the top of the SE's front nozzle. "I told you we could have done it in time," I replied, just for the record. "And it's exactly how you wanted it built. Right down to the last detail. Pretty sleek, huh?"   
  
Waternoose just gave me a simple nod of confirmation. He doesn't seem to commend anyone, unless he thinks they really deserve it (with the exception of Sullivan, of course). I backed away from the machine and went over to the control panel, pressing a button I installed on it. The SE rose upward by a mechanical arm that was attached to it.   
  
Soon, it hid the giant contraption in an open space near the ceiling. There were tons of pipes covering the ceiling everywhere else, but I decided to use the skylight area to my advantage. Sure, it covered the light coming in through the windows, but who cares? I'm used to working in dark rooms anyways. No biggie. If anyone ever found my hideaway (banish the thought), I figured it would hide the Scream Extractor from prying eyes.   
  
Waternoose turned his attention towards me. "I'm very impressed with this 'Scream Extractor' of yours," he declared.   
  
Wow. Wonder of wonders. And my last name's not even Sullivan (banish that thought too - ick!).   
  
"Now, I'm assuming you've left the last door you've been scaring in at your station as I instructed?" he continued.   
  
I nodded in return. "It should still be sitting out there, unless someone sent it back," I confirmed.   
  
My boss smirked. "All right, then," he said. "Take the child out of its room and bring it in here. We'll conduct our first test-run tomorrow afternoon - promptly after work. . .Wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious now, would we?"   
  
He sounded a bit power-hungry at that particular moment. I kinda wondered if this guy was really sane, but I didn't say anything. I'm not stupid, remember? Instead, I opted for another question. . .   
  
"Where do you want me to put it for the night?" I asked.   
  
Waternoose dragged a small, metal cage out of the shadows and dropped it beside me with a clang. "Just put it in here," he said. "We don't want the other employees finding it. Besides, it's just a human child. They're easy to care for. You shouldn't have any problems, if it's caged up."   
  
I stared at the cage for a minute. Putting it in a cage made perfect sense. After all, who would let a human run loose? But still. . .it was awfully tiny. "Okay. . ." I said, momentarily drifting towards my thoughts. "But isn't it a bit. . .small - for a human, that is?"   
  
I'm an idiot. I don't know why I cared all that much. All monsters knew humans had tiny brains - especially the young ones. So, the kid wouldn't know the difference, would it? Waternoose gave me the answer I was expecting. . .   
  
"Nonsense!" he chuckled. "They're just humans, they won't know the difference. Now, why would you worry about a human when there are more important things to worry about? Like counting money, for example," He chuckled again and gave me a strong pat on the back - one that nearly knocked me over. "See you tomorrow afternoon - five sharp."   
  
I forced a (pretty pathetic) chuckle along with him and nodded. "Sure."   
  
My eyes followed Waternoose as he left. Questions were running through my mind as I did so, but they weren't exactly ones that I'd care to talk with him about. I wondered how far my boss would go to keep this thing a secret. One of the employees had already overheard me arguing with Waternoose over the short deadline of building the Scream Extractor.   
  
Waternoose figured that he had heard too much and banished him somewhere in the Himalayas (illegally, mind you). You all probably know him. He's the "Abomidable Snowman".   
  
Anyways, I grabbed a canister cart from the corner of the room and began pushing it out the entrance tunnel. But the scream canisters on the cart weren't actually canisters, it was a cleverly disguised box. Waternoose had provided me with it, so that we could kidnap kids one-by-one after he was convinced my Scream Extractor had proved itself.   
  
But, for the moment, I was using it to collect our "test child". I rolled it into the hallway and hastily moved towards the Scarefloor, looking over my shoulder every once and awhile. I really didn't want anyone to spot me doing what I was doing, so it made me a bit on-edge (boy, that's an understatement).   
  
I used Scarefloor F's back door. Why? It's too risky to use the front door. Roz is forever sitting at her office grading and filing that paperwork she loves so much. She lives here or, at least, that's what it seems like. I pushed the back door open and stuck my head in, taking a careful look around. When I was sure the coast was clear, I ducked back out into the hallway to retrieve the canister cart and shoved it onto the floor. Don't ask me why, but I kept looking around. I guess I just had that feeling I was being watched. . .   
  
But at least the door was still standing there - right where I left it. I slowly approached the door and clicked the cart's handle into place so that it would stay upright. I was, at the time, unaware that Sullivan had been lurking around just before I came in. But, anyhow, I didn't bother to disappear as I headed into the kid's room. I was gonna try not to scare her, because I didn't want to take the risk of her jumping out of bed and running to her parents' room. Or waking them with another ear-piercing scream.   
  
I did some research before coming into the kid's room. The profile that came with the card key said that her room was a Level 2 threat. You humans aren't aware of what that means, I'm sure. That means that her parents' room is nearby and they have a dog.   
  
I entered the room slowly, hoping that I wouldn't appear threatening enough (which was a definate first for me). I stepped foot onto her blue carpet and looked around the whimsical room. There was a little table and chairs, her unmade bed, and a teddy bear sitting on it. . .but no kid. I scratched my chin in puzzlement. I could've swore she was there an hour ago.   
  
Call me a moron, but I got down on all eights and glanced under the bed - just to make sure she wasn't hiding under there. As one would expect, I didn't see anything aside from a few toys and dust bunnies.   
  
Odd. . .   
  
I stood, hearing her dog scratching at the door from outside. I figured that now was a good time to make my exit. I was just wasting my time. I made my way towards the closet, but something made me stop. I glanced down at her table and saw a drawing. Absentmindedly, I picked it up - looking at it out of pure curiosity. I was surprised to see it looked so much like me.   
  
I haven't seen drawings half as good as that in the MI daycare and our monster kids were much more intelligent than some stupid human kid. At least, that's what I was taught. If that was true, then how come she could draw such a good likeness of me? I suddenly broke out of my thoughts when the kid's dog began to growl and bark loudly.   
  
I HATE dogs. And don't even get me started on cats. . .   
  
So, I let the drawing drop back to the table and headed for the closet, before the darn mutt woke up everyone the house. It seemed to know I was leaving, because it momentarily shut up and scratched the door. I turned the knob and opened the closet door. The fact that the kid wasn't inside anymore was now becoming more of a suspicion than a mystery.   
  
So, I paused for a moment in the doorway, a thought suddenly entering my mind. Did I really hear sounds on the Scarefloor before I entered the kid's room? Nah. I shook my head at the thought, dismissing it as nothing (big mistake), and looked around one last time before pushing the cart out of the Scarefloor.   
  
Suddenly, I stopped mid-step - and sneezed. Yeah, I know, I don't even have a nose. But I suspected I had caught a virus of some sort down in that cold lab of mine. It's the only time I ever really sneeze. Not like I would tell my boss about it, though. It really wasn't that bad. Now, SKIN SHEDDING is bad. It's the only time I really VOLUNTEER to take a vacation. By comparison, having a cold is a walk in the park. I just shook it off and kept going.   
  
Man, Waternoose was NOT going to like hearing that the kid was gone. . .   
  
*********************************************   
  
Later that night, I made it to my apartment for some much-needed rest. But, somehow, the fact that the kid was gone kept me awake. I paced near the window. Waternoose was gonna chew me out if he found out what happened. And, believe me, I didn't want him to find out. He'd be quick to blame it on me, I'm sure. And, if she really got onto the Scarefloor, the kid couldn't have gone far. Short legs don't get you anywhere very fast and that's a fact.   
  
It was only a matter of time before SOMEBODY found her, though, I knew that too. And who knows what the CDA would do if they found a real, live kid running loose. Heh. Actually, it might be amusing to watch them wander around aimlessly, searching odd places like pizza stores and mortuaries for a kid that's probably not far from their yellow noses. . .   
  
Then an engenious idea hit me. I COULD just forget about the kid and randomly kidnap another from the millions stored away in the door vault. It's not like Waternoose knew the difference (or cared) anyways. That would be easy and I'd FINALLY get some sleep. Besides, if the authorities caught the first kid, they wouldn't be able to trace it back to me and Waternoose specifically. They'd probably get rid of the kid one way or another and we'd simply use the next one. But, for some reason, something. . somewhere inside of me pulled at my heart. It was one of those annoying things that you just can't ignore.   
  
One thing. Yeah. ONE thing kept me from making that doomed decision to leave her to the CDA. It was that drawing. Don't you dare call me a softie - or you're gonna seriously regret it! But. . .still. . .the thought of that kid lingered in my mind, as if she had something I didn't. Come to think of it, many kids (monster ones) I pass by on the sidewalks of Monstropolis give me the same feeling. Frankly, I can't figure out what it is I'm striving for from them and it annoys the heck outta me. . .   
  
Besides, I don't even like kids. Last time I was assigned to work the weekend at the company daycare, I thought I'd die. I didn't make it through very well - I only lasted, oh, the first day maybe. By the time I was through, half the kids were crying while the other half were complaining about another kid hitting them, me ignoring their requests, or something. I couldn't, for the life of me, keep up with all of them. Ugh. Now I know why their parents send them to daycare. . .just to get a BREAK from the chaos that comes with having a kid around!   
  
Anyways, the soft spot (small one, mind you) in my heart was compelling me to do something about the kid. I gazed out the window at the city, torn between doing what was "right" and taking the easy road. I finally opted for doing what was "right" because, suddenly, my views of human kids just weren't quite the same. I was going to find her, if for nothing else, but to keep the city from dropping into chaos if she was found (not to mention getting a nasty scolding from my boss for supposedly "letting her into the Monster World").   
  
So, I headed for the door. I figured that I'd have to start looking at Monsters Inc, where the kid first got out, then work my way out from there. But I couldn't hold back a regretful sigh as I made my way down the stairwell. So much for a full night's sleep. . .   
  
I emerged out of the entrance of the apartment complex (aptly named "Herp Housing", because it's the only part of the community where reptile-monsters are really welcomed). It was cool that night, so I was glad I had grabbed my coat before I left. It was fall at the time. Though I don't recall the exact day it was when everything happened, it's still clear in my mind every detail of my ordeal.   
  
I headed across the street and strolled down a couple of blocks, before I noticed something very odd. I lived in downtown Monstropolis, so it was normally busy at this time of night. But this scene was more or less chaotic! I slowed my pace substantially, just to watch monsters flee past me in the opposite direction that I was heading. A couple shoved me aside in their haste to get away from something (man, and everyone says I'M pushy. . .).   
  
My suspicions were suddenly raised. I've NEVER seen such mass chaos as this. The CDA were whizzing by in their armored vehicles, sirens blaring and helicopters hovering above my head. It was like an armed criminal had just escaped jail and was now terrorizing the community. But I knew better. This kind of thing wouldn't be happening, unless there had to be a human involved. . .a human KID.   
  
My fronds jerked upright at the sudden realization, though it was still hard to believe. She couldn't have gotten that far that fast! I weaved through the panicked crowd and nearly collided with a CDA agent that was standing up ahead of me. I tried to walk around him, but he held me back with a gloved hand, as if he was boss of the place.   
  
"This is a restricted area," he said, his voice sounding fuzzy through the speakers they have in those yellow suits. "Please move away, sir, or you will be decontaminated."   
  
Okay, I didn't want to get decontaminated (that's just nasty - especially if you don't even have fur), but I just HAD to know what was going on. I compromised the situation by taking a glance over the agent's shoulder. I was a bit surprised to see - of all places - the Harryhausen's restaraunt. CDA agents were grabbing monsters and dragging them off to be decontaminated. Screams and helicopter blades echoed through the air, adding to the uncontrollable chaos. Media vehicles pulled up outside the crime scene (you would figure that they'd be the FIRST ones here) and began to speak with any eyewitnesses they could stop long enough to interview.   
  
I glanced at the CDA agent and asked him one of the stupidest questions. . .   
  
"What's going on?" I asked, having to raise my voice now to be heard over the approaching helicopters.   
  
"We've had a security breach," the agent replied. "They say a human child is loose in this building."   
  
That's all I needed to know. I clenched my fists and looked away thoughtfully. I can't believe I hadn't gone out to look for that kid sooner. I made eye contact with the agent again and thanked him, before walking off. I had the feeling (or maybe it was hope) that the kid had been smart enough to run outside. But I really wasn't getting my hopes up. I was, at least, going to double-check the perimeter (geez, I'm starting to sound like a military commander or something) in case I was right.   
  
But an odd sound made me stop again. . .   
  
A loud, zapping sound filled the air and I quickly glanced over my shoulder. A glowing green dome immediately covered the sushi restaraunt. It glowed and fizzled as it stood there. Then everything inside it was disinegrated with a ground-shaking boom. One would think an earthquake hit, the ground was trembling so much.   
  
When the dust and smoke cleared, the restaraunt was toast - literally. All that was left behind was a mound of dust and an angry owner, shaking his balled tentacles at the CDA as they calmly relinquished the green dome. If the kid really was inside. . .she would have been dust by now.   
  
But I noticed something that had probably changed my mind about heading home. As the helicopters moved off, their searchlights began scanning across the city. It was as if they knew the kid had gotten out and had only destroyed the restaraunt to ease the fears of the monsters, that were running around in a panic. I wasn't fooled.   
  
I simply shook my head and continued on my way.   
  
Just then, a news reporter came running up to me and shoved his microphone in my face. The camera monster zoomed in on my 'surprised-yet-annoyed' expression. "Hello there!" the reporter said cheerily, grinning. He reminded me - in appearance AND personality - of Fungus. "We saw you talking with the CDA over there. Care to share anything with us?"   
  
I blinked, looking at him as if he were an idiot (which, it seemed, he was). "No," I replied simply, turning around to walk off. Maybe they'd go bother someone else.   
  
"But you're an eyewitness, are you not?" he insisted, still as cheerful as ever. I seriously thought his face would crack with the smile he had.   
  
But I kept going, not making eye contact with him. I recognized this guy from Monstropolis News and I didn't like the organization he was from. Monstropolis News was well-known for skewing facts and editing out parts that they thought weren't "juicy material" to boost their ratings. I was not going to let these two make a clown out of me on local TV, so I pretty much tried to give him as many clues to "beat it" as I could. But, by golly, he's not very perceptive. . .   
  
"No," I repeated a second time, trying to keep my voice even and stern. He had to get my point eventually, so I changed to a more straight-forward message. . . "Now, don't you have some other monster you can interview?"   
  
The reporter refused to let me off the hook, practically following me with the camera guy right behind him. "Ah. . But my reporter's instincts tell me you have something to say to me!" he insisted, grabbing my arm to stop me and hitting me in the back with the camera bag that was slung over his shoulder.   
  
Okay, he wanted me to tell him what I had on my mind? I'd tell 'im. . .   
  
I stopped, pretending to think for a moment. "Y'know, you're right," I replied, a smug smile forming on my face.   
  
"I knew it! What is it, sir?" the reporter declared victoriously, shoving the microphone in my face expectantly (he almost hit me in the nose, he was THAT close).   
  
I finally and decisively socked him in the face.   
  
"Shut up."   
  
Then I left to continue my search in peace. Y'know, now I understand why his name is Ear Ittation. . . 


	3. Suspicions

**A Different Point of View   
by Randall Boggs**   
  
*********************************************

  
  
**Chapter Three - Suspicions**   
  
The next morning, after having a cup of coffee and a day-old bagel, I headed for work. I still hadn't found the kid, but I also wasn't giving up that easily. I'm stubborn and anyone who knows me'll tell ya the same thing. So, my plan was to get into the building and do some heavy-duty detective work without tipping anyone off that this kid was mine. Pfft. Easier said than done, I'll tell you that right now.   
  
Anyways, when I arrived that morning, I found the place absolutely FILLED with CDA agents. It was like a cockroach infestation -they were on the ceilings, skittering around on the main lobby, climbing the walls, popping out windows. . .it was just plain ridiculous. A few CDA agents were scanning the area and passing monsters with their "child detector" things. I thought it best to get out of there while they were distracted. I didn't need them poking into my privacy.   
  
So, I attempted to slip past - acting as casual as I could, of course. But, unfortunately, it didn't throw them off. One of the annoying agents spotted me and made a beeline right for me. I just kept going, pretending I didn't notice him. Maybe, if I was lucky, he'd go away. Heh. No chance. He stopped me and I raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
"What?" I asked, the annoyance showing up in my voice.   
  
"Just scanning you for traces of child, sir," the agent said, scanning me with his contraption as he spoke.   
  
I simply sighed with impatience and let him do his job. There was no fighting it, I knew, or it might make them think of me as "suspicious". I folded my arms, all the while thinking about what a good thing it was that I never touched the kid because, like I mentioned before, being decontaminated is painful if there's no fur to shave off. When he grabbed my tail and began to thoroughly scan it, I decided this was enough and jerked my tail out of his grip.   
  
"I don't have time for this," I told him, proceeding to walk off down the hallway.   
  
Man, those agents were simply crawling everywhere. You turned the corner and there they were, like hordes of plastic bees or something. They were decontaminating monsters left and right. I passed them quietly on my way to check out the locker rooms. Maybe I could find Fungus in there. I needed help with finding this kid before Waternoose found out I lost it. And Fungus was the only companion I could turn to for such a thing. Yeah. Unfortunate, but true.   
  
I was only about a meter away from the Floor F locker room, when I was stopped (yes, yet again) by one of those CDA agents. He was holding a notepad and pencil.   
  
"Sir, we need to know if you've seen a small child running around," he stated, holding his pencil at ready to jot down whatever I told him.   
  
Unfortunately for the CDA, I wasn't telling him anything. "A child?" I asked, acting as if I didn't know what he was talking about. "Just look in the daycare, buster. There's a bunch in there."   
  
"No," the agent insisted. "A human was found yesterday night roaming Monstropolis. We are looking for anyone with possible connections to this offense."   
  
"Oh, a human?" I replied, still trying to be a convincing actor. "Well, that's a whole different matter. . ."   
  
"Have you had any contact with it?" he asked, abruptly interrupting me.   
  
I just shook my head. "Hey, sorry to disappoint ya, buddy," I replied. "But I haven't seen it. . .I'll tell ya what, though." I put my upper arm around the agent's shoulders and switched to a whisper. "I suggest you ask Luckey about it. . .he might know something. He's been acting kinda suspicious lately."   
  
The agent's yellow head went up in surprise and he turned to look at Luckey, who was walking down the opposite hallway. He pointed accusingly. "Stop him!" he yelled. Before the guy could react, Luckey found himself buried under a pile of CDA guys.   
  
I chuckled to myself, glad to be free, and headed into the mens' locker room. I turned to walk down the first locker aisle when ANOTHER agent popped out of nowhere. Don't ask me how they do that, but I should've seen that one coming. He began to approach me.   
  
I sighed and turned towards the bathroom. Surely there weren't agents in there. I needed privacy. I needed a break. Still struggling to act cool and casual, the CDA agent got increasingly closer. Though, I'll admit, I felt more like a nervous wreck. I knew that, with a slight slip-up of words, they would suspect me as the offender and I'd be done for. Who knows what they'd do to me if they found out and I'm sure my boss wouldn't stop them from arresting me, either. So, I was stressed - really stressed. And I was in this conflict too deep to get out.   
  
The agent came up to me, but I kept on walking. "Halt!" he demanded.   
  
I obediently did what I was told, though not without giving out another annoyed look. "What now?" I muttered.   
  
"We would like to know if you've seen anything suspicious lately," the agent said.   
  
Now, how many times have I been asked that in the last five minutes? I headed for the bathroom again as I gave my reply. "Look. I've already told your buddies I haven't seen anything," I replied, my voice growing more impatient by the minute. Maybe it was the tension I was feeling. . .   
  
Anyhow, he nodded. "Alright, carry on."   
  
Aggitated and grumpy as I was, I waved him off and entered the bathroom. My tail silently swished behind me in a rythmic fashion as I made my way over to one of the sinks. I was SO glad to have some peace and quiet. It relaxed me somewhat. The stress I was under also seemed to be taking its toll. . .the CDA crawling everywhere. . .the pressure to find the kid. . .and not to mention the inevitability of having to tell Waternoose if I couldn't find it in time for his little test run. I splashed some water on my fronds to cool myself off - and so I could think straight.   
  
Just then, guess-who runs in. "Randall!"   
  
Of course, I was already on-edge as it was and that little creep nearly made me jump outta my scales. I jolted around to see who it was and, noticing that it was just Fungus, I lifted a hand to my chest, trying to calm my thumping heart. I rolled my eyes in further irritation and growled. Closing my eyes, I shook my head - partially scolding myself for getting scared over Fungus.   
  
"Thank goodness! What are we going to do about the child??" Fungus went on, shuddering fearfully.   
  
Oh yeah, Fungus, yell louder why don'cha, let everyone in the area know about my mistake and our involvement in an illegal activity. . .Idiot. I was considering grabbing that clipboard of his and shoving it in his open mouth, but I suddenly stopped everything. I thought I heard something. . .a slight squeaking noise maybe. . .I grabbed Fungus' helmet and immediately covered his mouth with one of my lower hands to shut him up.   
  
"Shhht!" I said, looking around cautiously. "Shh, shh, shhht. . ."   
  
With that, I vanished. I coulda sworn that no one was in there when I first entered. But if anyone was around, I'd make sure they'd pay for what they heard. I couldn't take the chance. I just couldn't. I bashed a few doors in furiously, hoping like crazy that there wouldn't be anyone I knew behind any of those stall doors. After hitting open and looking inside about six bathroom stalls, I raised a fist to bash in another, when Fungus suddenly stopped me.   
  
My scare assistant ran up to me holding today's edition of the 'Monstropolis Horn'. "The front page! It's on the front page. . ." he exclaimed for all to hear. "The child. The one you were after. . ."   
  
I clenched my teeth, my fists shaking. He didn't even give me the chance to check ALL the doors before speaking up. What if there really WAS someone in there?? I glared at my assistant furiously. "Will. You. Be QUIET?" I snapped in a more hushed tone, my eyes shifting around the room again to make absolutely sure no one was around. "Don't you think I'm aware of the situation? I was up all NIGHT trying to find it. . ."   
  
"I - I - I did a simple calculation. Factoring in the size of the sushi restaraunt. . ." he said nervously (what else is new?), his voice rising as he went on. "The child. . .may have. . .ESCAPED!!"   
  
I simply shook my head in disbelief as he went on, but I made myself listen patiently until he was finished. Still, I kept getting the feeling that he didn't get a thing I had said. It was like talking to a brick wall. Once he had finished, whimpering and hiding behind the newspaper, I put my two cents in.   
  
"Yeah?" I said sarcastically. "Well, until we know for sure, we're gonna pretend like nothing's happened, understand? You just get the machine up and running. . .I'LL take care of the kid. And when I find out who let it out. . .they're DEAD!" Then I slammed the door beside me wide open, glancing out the other entrance as I did so. It slowly swung closed behind me, unbeknownst to me that my rivals and the kid were hiding directly behind it.   
  
Fungus hid behind his newspaper, still staring at me. I eyed him and frowned, leaning into his face. "What are you still doing here?" I asked, snatching the newspaper from Fungus' hands and whacking him upside the head with it. "C'mon! Go! Move! Now!"   
  
Fungus jumped again and began running out the door, me right on his tail (that is, if he had one). "Okay okay! Ow! ow! ow!" Fungus yelped. "I'm not here."   
  
I sighed deeply, shaking my head as I watched him scramble out the locker room and into the MI hallway. He can be such a pain in the. . .uh. . .tail. Fungus may be a math whiz, but he sure lacks common sense - not to mention long-term memory or somethin'. I ran a hand through my fronds pensively, back to thinking of a way to find this kid in time. I finally settled on a bit of subtle detective work - starting on Scarefloor F. Somebody had to have let that kid out on purpose and, of course, whoever it was I deducted that would (most likely) be one of my fellow scarers or scare assistants.   
  
I headed out the door past the girls' locker room and marched determinedly towards the Scarefloor. I was gonna get answers and I was gonna get them now. Just as I reached the entrance hall, some one bumped into me and subconciously I changed to a furry, purple-and-blue-spotted color.   
  
"Ugh!" I groaned. Just by looking down at my "furry" body, I knew EXACTLY who I had run into. . .or more like, who had run into ME.   
  
"It'll be somebody else's problem - not ours! She's out of out hair!" Wazowski was yelling, being dragged like a mop from Sullivan's tail.   
  
I looked up at Sullivan and Wazowski, glaring at them in annoyance as they skidded to a stop. "What are you two DOING??" I demanded, throwing my arms downward and changing back to normal.   
  
A slug-like worker slunk by us. "They're rehearsing for a company play."   
  
So, Wazowski switched to his opera edition. "She's out of our haaaaiiirrr!"   
  
It was my turn to be unamused. "Can it, Wazowski!" I snapped, not in the mood for his distractions. But suddenly, like a lightning bolt, Wazowski's words made something pop into my mind.   
  
What was it that he was complaining about earlier when he said 'it'll be somebody else's problem'? That one phrase made my suspicions rise to alert level. They had to have known something. . .I immediately became casual, hoping I could get something out of this opportunity. I rubbed my chin, looking at the two as if I wasn't really trying to poke into anything personal - even though, in a sly way, I was.   
  
"So," I said nonchalantly. "What do you think about that kid getting out, Sullivan? Pretty crazy, huh?"   
  
Even I could tell Sullivan was forcing that grin of his. "Oh, yeah, crazy," he replied, chuckling nervously.   
  
I decided to push onward, this was getting more interesting by the second. The newspaper Fungus had shown me came to mind so, in a subtle way, I thought I'd bring it up. "Word on the street is, the kid's been traced back to this factory. . ." I said, knowing that monsters had to be talking about this all over the city. Carefully, I snuck my point in. "You haven't seen anything. . .have you?"   
  
"Uh. Well. Uh. . ." Sullivan stuttered unsurely.   
  
Boy, he sure doesn't hide his secret very well, does he? Ding. Round two. Let's see if Wazowski can convince me. . .   
  
Right on cue, the green eyeball ran in front of his speechless partner. "No. .no way. ." he cut in, smiling innocently as he put an arm around me. "But. If it was an inside job. . .Oh, I'd put my money on Waxford."   
  
I stared at Wazowski skeptically. Then I shifted my gaze over to Roz' office window, where the guy was standing. "Waxford?"   
  
"Yeah, the one at station six," Wazowski led me on. "Y'know. . .he's got them shifty eyes. . ."   
  
That convinced me for the moment. It definately WAS possible that Waxford could have done it. I did see him hanging around the Scarefloor after-hours yesterday. Maybe he WAS the one. I set my jaw, staring at Waxford in determination, and stomped over there. "Hey, Waxford!"   
  
Waxford turned around in surprise as I approached. "Er, what?"   
  
"Look, if you know anything about this kid incident," I demanded in a hushed voice, trying to keep others from over-hearing as I waved the newspaper in his face. "Then I suggest you should tell me now - for your own health. . ." I loomed over the smaller monster angrilly. Maybe I could scare him into keeping the secret if he DID know and quietly handing the kid back over to me - without having to conduct a nasty confrontation.   
  
It seemed to be working. Waxford cringed under the stern glare I was giving him. Already on a roll, I was about to push my threat further, when I heard Wazowski and his girlfriend yelling behind me. I turned to look at them. . .   
  
"SUSHI?? You think this is about SUSHI?!?" Ceila screamed in outrage.   
  
Wazowski noticed me staring at them and - probably in a last ditch effort to shut 'er up - he dipped her and gave her an. . .ick. .kiss. I could tell he was hiding something, since she slapped him for it. Pretty hard too, I might add. My eyes hardened for a moment, watching him forcefully kiss her, and I glanced down at the newspaper I had snatched from Fungus earlier. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. But I stopped. If I wasn't suspicious enough before this REALLY did it. . .   
  
I quickly turned the newspaper on it's side and there it was - photograpic evidence of Wazowski's involvement in this mess. I knew he was part of it ever since I ran into them in the hallway! Blaming Waxford was, obviously, a distraction. He thought I was an idiot! Too bad I'm smarter than he thinks. . .   
  
My head went up. "Wazowski!" I growled, glaring back at where he was standing. Looks like the little creep chickened out and ran off. . .because he was long gone.   
  
Frustrated, I growled and threw my newspaper behind me into Waxford's face, stomping off into the main hallway. I felt like pulverizing Wazowski. Here I was, wasting my time, staying up all night looking for that kid (not to mention stressing out when I could find hide nor hair of it), and here he was with all the information I needed to find it! And if Wazowski was involved I knew Sullivan had to be not far behind. Why they did this to me, I didn't know. All I knew was that I needed answers and Wazowski was my best bet to get them.   
  
With that in mind, I let my tongue slip out of my mouth to taste the air. For those of you who reptilian-impared, you might like to know that, like dogs use their noses, we use our tongues. And it works almost just as well, thank you very much. Anyways, I scanned the air for any indication of where the green gumball ran off to. When I finally picked up the scent, I vanished and slithered down the nearest hallway.   
  
Wazowski would be sorry for underestimating my intelligence. . . 


	4. One Last Chance

**A Different Point of View   
by Randall Boggs**   
  
NOTE FROM JOY: Sorry it's taking so long. Besides the fact that I'm managing my site and "Spy Game", this fic takes a bit longer to write, because - at the same time I'm helping Randall write it - I'm referring back to the DVD as referrence. So, this is probably the most accurate re-writing of the movie story as you'll find anywhere. I don't write stories without alot of heart and soul put into them, which (I think) is a quality that makes stories become great ones, and this one is no exception.   
  
I do my research and make sure I'm getting it right step-by-step - even studying his expressions in the movie and trying to find out what he's thinking. Of course, Randall and Sean are my main critics, who give me tips here and there to make this story the best it can be (thanks boys). I even attempt to get the movement and acting (as well as timing) just right. I DO compromise in a few places and let a few typos sneak in here and there without noticing it, but otherwise it's the great quality you've come to expect from me. And I won't let you down, I'll tell you that, even if it DOES seem to take forever. *laughs*   
  
Thanks for all of the reviews too! Randall and me love reading them, as you may or may not know by now, each one is very encouraging and motivates the both of us to keep writing. ^_^   
  
But now, I'll pass it on over to Randall. Enjoy the story!   
  
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**Chapter Four - One Last Chance**   
  
It had taken me less time than I had thought to find Wazowski. In fact, I saw where he was headed and ran down a shortcut to cut him off. Of course, he hadn't seen me either - which was good on my part. He streaked around a corner and stopped, glancing around. He was looking to see if I followed him, no doubt. Heh heh. If only he knew. . .   
  
"Whew," he said, turning towards where I was standing.   
  
I had vanished into the painting of Waternoose that hung on the wall. I knew now was the time to get down to business. Tell it to the guy straight. I slowly unblended from the painting and folded my arms grumpily, waiting for him to spot me. As luck would have it, he did. And, as I had expected, it scared him half to death.   
  
"Yikes!" he yelled, jumping about ten feet in the air.   
  
Though it was amusing, I wasn't smiling. My job and total livelihood was on the line and that green eyeball obviously knew much more about the situation than he wanted me to know. I wasn't going to put up with this junk. I laid down the line.   
  
"Where's the kid?" I demanded, pouncing on him and grabbing his eyebrow.   
  
"Kid?" he chuckled nervously. "What kid?"   
  
I backed off, something important coming to mind. A look of realization came over my face and I glared at him. "It's here in the factory - isn't it?" I asked, looking around.   
  
Wazowski continued to make his usual excuses. "You're not pinning this on me," he replied, holding up his hands. "It never would have gotten out if YOU hadn't been cheating last night!"   
  
There he went again, blaming EVERYTHING on me. Didn't he know? It wasn't MY fault that Sullivan came on the Scarefloor and opened the door. It wasn't MY fault they took the kid home while the whole city's looking for her. It wasn't MY fault the kid got out in the first place. I had had just about enough with hearing that kind of stuff from Wazowski. He had NO idea the kind of stuff I was going through. . .   
  
"CHEATING??" I asked, raising my voice. "I -"   
  
But then I stopped. So, he still thought I was cheating? He had no idea the huge plans that were REALLY behind this corporate scandal of Waternoose's? Hmm. Maybe I could still keep Waternoose's plot a secret by going along with Wazowski's suspicions. It was perfect. So what if they knew about the kid? I might be able to manupulate them into covering it up, so we could all just go on with life.   
  
Actually, it'd be a win-win situation. They wouldn't get involved in this. I'd get the kid off their hands, so they could live their normal, obnoxious lives again. And I'd keep my job without "letting the cat out of the bag", as they say. It was the perfect cover-up operation. I was just hoping Wazowski would fall for it. . .   
  
I took up a calm composure again and eyed him. "Cheating. . ." I replied, pointing to him. "Right." I tried to give him a smile, though I suspect it came out TOO happy - or sly, either one. But, in any case, he should consider himself lucky that I was giving him a second chance to straighten things out. "Okay, I think I know how to make this all go away."   
  
I talked slowly and clearly, so that he could understand me. "What happens when the whistle blows in five minutes?"   
  
He looked totally clueless, to say the least. "Uh. I. . .get a time-out?"   
  
"Everyone goes to lunch!!" I replied in outrage.   
  
Okay, so a have a small temper problem. But you can't say I didn't, at least, TRY to be patient. It's kinda hard to be pleasant when you've got a tight deadline, the threat of your boss laying into you for losing the kid he wants, and having a lack of everything necessary to have a good day (i.e. sleep, energy, decent meals. . .). You gotta admit, though, Wazowski REALLY had a problem with easy questions.   
  
And that's an understatement.   
  
But I composed myself again and continued. "Which means the Scarefloor will be. . .?"   
  
Wazowski paused for a long moment. The gears in his brain seemed to be working feverishly for the answer. ". . .Painted?"   
  
"Empty! It'll be empty, you idiot!" I replied, shaking him by the shoulders.   
  
Yup. You guessed it. I had just run out of patience. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.   
  
I pointed behind me. "You see that clock?" I asked, waiting for him to nod before continuing. "The big hand is pointing UP. And when the little hand is pointing UP, the door will be in my station. . ." I held his arms and positioned them accordingly to illustrate my point. Unfortunately for Wazowski, I was reaching the painful end of my speech. "But when the big hand points DOWN. . .The door will be gone. You have until then to put the kid BACK." I leaned into his face. "Get the picture?"   
  
He nodded with a small whimper.   
  
"Okay, good," I replied, letting him go.   
  
He untangled his arms (I'm surprised I didn't break 'em!), rubbing them as he stared at me with this look of horror on his face. He didn't say anything. Just stared.   
  
I circled around to the other side of him, my hands clasped behind my back. "And Wazowski?"   
  
He gulped. "Uhh. . .yeah?" he asked, his voice now small and squeaky.   
  
"I don't want anyone else to know about this - got that?" I said, making my point clear as I eyed him cautiously.   
  
Wazowski simply nodded his head and ran off at top speed down the hallway. I watched him intently as he disappeared. Now, if only I can grab the kid and keep them from discovering (and possibly getting involved with) this scandal I'm in, it should be a promising situation. If all went well, they'd go on as if nothing had happened and I'd keep this situation of mine from getting more. . .shall we say. . .controversially involved.   
  
I turned tail and headed casually down the opposite hallway, back to my lab to get the cart-and-box I'd need to finalize the deal with Wazowski. Hopefully, it would be the last I'd hear of him and Sullivan getting involved in my business - for their sakes. Yeah. You heard me right. THEIR sakes - as well as my own.   
  
I may hate their guts - but I'm not a heartless criminal, either.   
  
You should know right now that Waternoose never takes too well to anyone getting involved who isn't considered part of his "masterful plan". He got rid of the "Abomidable Snowman" for the same reason. . .no need for more illegalities, I figured. Besides, you'd think that the authorities would notice that the company's so-called "Top Scarer" and his little, green scare assistant had vanished. The last thing I wanted was to give the CDA more clues to follow. . .   
  
******************************************   
  
I patiently (okay, maybe IM-patiently) waited under the kid's bed, hoping that I'd scared Wazowski enough earlier that day to make him bring her back to her room for me. That room was where I could get my hands on her and bring the kid to my lab just in time for Waternoose's arrival. He wouldn't suspect a thing as long as Wazowski followed my instructions.   
  
I laid on my stomach amongst the scattered toys and blocks that were not unusual to find in a child's bedroom. I rested my head on my hand and tapped my fingers on her carpeted floor, waiting. I kept one hand on the box, though, one that I managed to squish under the bed next to me. I'd be ready as soon as they brang the kid in.   
  
Okay. Now, I wanna be clear with you on this: I brought down HER door specifically and not some other one because. . .One: I'm not stupid. Two: They're not stupid (though, if you want my truthful opinion, they're not too far off). And Three: To convince them that I was trying to help.   
  
Finally, I heard it.   
  
Wazowski and Sullivan were saying something unintelligable on the other side of the closet door.   
  
"You want me to prove everything's on the up-and-up?" I could hear Wazowski saying. "Fine!"   
  
That's all I could make out as Wazowski jabbered on outside the door. I slunk under the bed further. This was it! I was home-free and the kid would be mine! I waited for the right moment, hearing the kid jump up onto the bed and start bouncing up and down. I then grabbed the box and - in one fluid movement - scooped her up and shut the lid. I couldn't believe my luck!   
  
Not getting laid into by Waternoose already seemed like a great preposition to me. I came out from under the bed and hefted the surprisingly-heavy box into my four arms. Then I carried it out the door and dropped it onto the cart I would be using to move it back to my lab (What? Did you really expect me to CARRY it all the way?). I quickly pressed the button to send the kid's door back to the vault and turned my attention back to the cart, adjusting the handle so that I could push it.   
  
And to think I never even noticed the big hairball and the kid hiding only feet away from me. . .   
  
Though I didn't know they were around, something inside me was telling me to be cautious. So, I kept on alert - on edge might be a better term for it. I was walking on a thin line - the line between getting caught and keeping everything quiet. I was finding the second choice harder and harder as Sullivan and Wazowski became involved.   
  
I wheeled the cart halfway towards the exit hall when I thought I heard a noise.   
  
I stopped abrupty, checking over my shoulder before immediately disappearing from sight. This was the same as the bathroom scene and others that I couldn't quite recall at the moment. I slithered around quickly to investigate, the wind following my speedy search blowing a single paper off of a nearby workstation desk. I slowed down gradually, sensing someone was nearby, but not quite sure of myself.   
  
I took it slow, crawling up beside another workdesk and scanning part of the room. I revealed myself as I did so.   
  
Then the workbell rang.   
  
Shoot!   
  
Not wanting to get caught, yet not wanting to just leave the cart out there for anyone to snatch, I slithered back towards it like a lightning bolt. Then I adjusted the handle again and pushed it past the crowd that began to fill the large Scarefloor. I had to get this thing - and the kid inside it - safely put in my secret lab, before anyone became suspicious.   
  
It didn't take me long to reach the lab. I wheeled it inside and was met by a lazy monster known as Fungus Oz. He was obviously nervously waiting by the entrance to see if I had completed the mission.   
  
"S-so. . .did you find it?" Fungus asked me as I made my way inside the heart of the lab.   
  
I rolled my eyes. "Yes! I've got the kid!" was my reply.   
  
He seemed simply giddy about the idea. "Oh, huzzah! That's great news," he said. "Not that I was concerned, of course. . ."   
  
Something about him really got on my nerves, though I couldn't really place it. I pointed to the ground beside me. "Just get over here and help me!" I interrupted, knowing he'd go into a long, drawn-out speech on how "non-concerned" he was. "Come on, come on, come on. While we're young here, Fungus."   
  
I knew he was covering up the fact that he really WAS concerned about my "mission". It's like everyone takes me for an idiot when I talk to them. Like I have no brain or can't carry on an intelligent conversation, then again, maybe it was just because I'm a reptile. We always get the bulk of the prejudice in the monster world, anyway.   
  
Y'know, maybe that's why I get so irritated by Fungus. . .He's a genius and he acts like I can't do any of the things he can. I think that's why. That and perhaps his constant stuttering and nervous jittering. . .   
  
Anyhow, enough about Fungus. Back to the scene. With help from Fungus, we lifted the box out of the, uh, box and carried it over to the Scream Extractor chair. "Kid needs to take off a few pounds," I said, my voice straining from the effort of hauling that darn box that seemed to weigh 200 pounds (which, in fact, it almost did).   
  
We both opened the box and tossed the contents onto the chair, revealing that I had actually captured. . .   
  
"WAZOWSKI?!?" I exclaimed, staring at the guy in a state of shock. This couldn't be happening.   
  
Fungus yelped and cringed. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as I was.   
  
Now, THIS was horrible. Not only did Wazowski know what my lab looked like, he knew I had been lying. I didn't have any doubts that - by now - he had figured out this was more of an issue than just cheating to get to the top. I was in deep now. I had to shut Wazowski up. I had to find the kid again. Those bumbling blockheads had tricked me again! I gave him one last chance to give the kid back and he refused. . .   
  
I should have known.   
  
Now, it was no more Mr. Nice Monster. I was furious. And I knew Waternoose would be too. This needed to be resoved before he found out.   
  
"Where is it ya little one-eyed cretin!?" I demanded, looking behind him just in case he was hiding her.   
  
"Okay. First of all, it's cree-tin," Wazowski corrected me, though he was in no position to do so. "If you're going to threaten me, do it properly."   
  
I simply let him finish, staring at him angrilly and folding my arms, because (like I mentioned before) I'm reasonable. I listen to what my victims have to say before making a move - usually. Right now, I really was NOT in the mood to be pleasant. As far as I was concerned, Wazowski had exhausted his options.   
  
"Second of all, you're NUTS if you think kidnapping me is gonna help you cheat your way to the top!" he finished.   
  
I couldn't help but give him a laugh. And all this time I thought he had already figured me out. . ."You still think this is about that stupid scare record???" I asked, incredulous.   
  
"Well. . .I did. Right up until you. . .chuckled like that," Wazowski said nervously. I could see he was getting ready to make a run for it. "And now. . .I'm thinking I should just get out of here. . ."   
  
Fungus pressed a button on the control panel as I gave him the signal and a bar came down over Wazowski's head. Oh no. I wasn't letting him off easy this time. I was running out of time and he was running out of luck. I grabbed his wrists and clamped bands over them, keeping him locked into his chair.   
  
"I'm about to revolutionize the scaring industry. And when I do, not even the great 'James P. Sullivan' is going to be working for me," I said, emphazising Sullivan's name in a sarcastic tone.   
  
Wazowski tugged at his restraints uneasily. "Well," he replied. "Somebody's been a busy bee. . ."   
  
"First, I need to know where the kid is," I said, eyeing him suspiciously. "And you're gonna tell me."   
  
"I don't know anything!" Wazowski replied.   
  
I looked at Fungus to see if he was ready and nodded. "Uh huh, sure."   
  
Wazowski looked desperate now. "Don't. I mean, don't," he rambled as Fungus tapped away on the control panel keyboard. "Uh-oh."   
  
My Scaream Extractor began lowering down from the ceiling, a mechanical whirring and warning sirens following it. Red lights flashed as it lowered into place. I had installed them for safety reasons, basically to warn anyone underneath to get the heck outta there. Wazowski looked up at it, his eyes as wide as it could go.   
  
"What's that?" he asked, sounding more panicked by the moment. "Come on. Wait, wait, wait. . .Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh. Oh, come on. No, no, no, no, no. Come on. Hey, hey, hey. . ." He wiggled in his seat as it came closer. "This thing is moving. . .I don't like big. . .moving. . .things that are moving towards me. No! Come on! Hey! Randall!?"   
  
I grinned, proud of my hard-earned creation, and patted my hand on the nozzle as if it were a dog. "Say hello to the Scream Extractor," I said, looking at him with a wide smile.   
  
Wazowski gulped. "Hello."   
  
I want you all to know that I didn't want to do this to Wazowski in the first place. Sure, I hate him. I REALLY hate him. But I'm not someone who goes out looking to hurt other monsters. That's why I gave him a second chance to return the kid back in the hallway. That's why I was attempting to cover this scandal up. But now he knew too much. Something drastic had to be done or Waternoose would do us BOTH in. There was no other way.   
  
And I knew that as I turned around to join Fungus at the control panel. My smile faded from my face and turned into a scowl. If only I had brought the kid in, none of this would have happened. My work rivals were getting dangerously close to getting deeply involved in Waternoose's and my business. I couldn't afford to have my boss find out.   
  
I'd have to give the SE it's first test run now. I was hoping it would shut him up, or at least scare him enough to keep this issue under wraps. If there was ANYONE I didn't want to know about this situation, it was Wazowski. He had a big mouth and he knew how to use it too.   
  
I could hear Wazowski behind my back, begging and pleading. I forced myself to ignore him and keep walking, though a little voice inside me told me that this was wrong. I knew it was. But he'd run out of luck. Tough. He had his chances. Life isn't fair. And no one in the building knew that better than me.   
  
"Come on, where are you going?" he was saying. "We'll talk. Come on, we'll have a latte! Come on. We can talk about this!"   
  
I, again, forced myself to limit communication with him. I knew only insults would come out of my mouth. Needless and meaningless words, I knew. I simply shoved my assistant out of the way as I took control of the Scream Extractor. I pushed three regulators up and the machine revved up, moving the nozzle towards Wazowski's face.   
  
"What is that thing? What IS that thing?" Wazowski asked, the nervousness in his voice. "Wait, wait, wait! Stop, stop! No, no! Come on. Hey!" He was down to sheer pleading now. "Help! Help! Help! Help!"   
  
I grinned widely. My machine was working! It's first test run and it was doing great! The smile I had seemed sinister as I watched it come closer to his face. All those years of mocking me and bragging about Sullivan's abilities. . .All the insulting comments. . .I'd finally have my revenge. Now was my time. After this he wouldn't dare do it again. I was pretty sure.   
  
And I don't mean it in the "killing Wazowski off" way. I mean it in the "scaring Wazowski half-to-death" way.   
  
At least. . .I HOPED I wouldn't kill anyone with it. Though, it was a possibility. . .   
  
I just shook the thought off, revelling in my victory. It was only inches from his face now and he was screaming. Then my machine just up and died. Wouldn't ya just know it? I was frustrated. Things just never went my way.   
  
"Oh, for - What'd you do wrong THIS time?" I demanded, glaring at my scare assistant.   
  
Fungus shook his head. "I don't know," he replied.   
  
Here it comes. I knew it was inevitable.   
  
"I callibrated the drive. . ." he began.   
  
Too bad I didn't want a "how-to" class. "Go check the machine!"   
  
And Fungus hopped to it - literally. He approached the dead Scream Extractor and jabbered on. "There must be something wrong witht he scream intake valve," he said. "That's the problem with these 3250 units. . ."   
  
I sighed in exasperation and hung my head, shaking it from side-to-side. This was ridiculous. I thought my design changes were flawless. I guess that's what test runs are for. But did it really have to konk out NOW? As I opened my eyes, I looked down at the floor and the wires attached to the control panel jerked ever-so-slightly. That was a sign that power was abruptly being cut off.   
  
"Huh?" I muttered.   
  
Suspicious, I crawled over the control panel and to the floor. I slithered around, following the wires as Fungus (yup, he was still talking to his imaginary students) continued looking at every aspect of my magnificent machine tightening a nut and bolt here and there. I rose to my four feet halfway there and looked around, as if expecting to see someone there. Hey, a plug doesn't get unplugged by itself y'know. Especially not one THAT big.   
  
Then I found the plug and picked it up. I carefully put it in place and shoved in it, sparks flying as the machine revved back to life. I quickly headed back to the main room again to watch, but I was met by a surprise. . .   
  
I looked up at the SE chair and gasped, shocked. Fungus was in that chair getting extracted instead of Wazowski! He had gotten away and I had the horrible feeling it was Sullivan. Who else would do this?   
  
"What happened?!?" I exclaimed. "Where's Wazowski??"   
  
He obviously couldn't say anything, so I pressed the 'power' button to turn it off. The whirring, resonating sounds died out as it shut down. I looked back up at Fungus, glaring. "Where is he?!" I asked again.   
  
Fungus wheezed a bit and pointed out the exit. I simply groaned and shook my head. Now I had to go find him and make him shut up. This was getting worse by the moment. I turned and quickly walked out of the lab, leaving Fungus to catch his breath again.   
  
I was in deep now. Really deep. . . 


	5. No Other Choice

**A Different Point of View   
by Randall Boggs**   
  
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**Chapter Five - No Other Choice**   
  
I sprinted down the MI hallway, trying to get to the simulator room. Sullivan and Wazowski had pushed their luck - twice (or more, I've lost count, frankly). It was time I called in the big guns - my boss, Waternoose. Sharply turning around a corner, there it was: the distinctive red doors that were a trademark of the simulator room.   
  
I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see if those two were coming this way yet, before going in.   
  
So far so good. I saw nothing.   
  
So, I bet you're wondering, why was I going to Waternoose? Well, Sulley and him are "buddies", correct? So, who would this big throw-rug go to for help when he finds an MI employee like me involved in illegal activites? That's right. Henry J. Waternoose. So, I figured he'd find out once they got here. It was better me warning him, than having Sullivan and Wazowski reveal what they know first. My punishment would, no doubt, be much worse if I didn't warn him.   
  
I quickly shoved one of the doors open and entered the simulator room, where some newbies were just learning the ropes. Waternoose noticed me immediately and excused himself to talk to me privately.   
  
As soon as he approached, I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of earshot so we could talk. And boy did we need to talk. . .   
  
"What's going on, Randall?" Waternoose asked me, sounding almost suspicious. I knew he could tell something was up, simply by the look on my face. He does that sometimes. Creeps me out, really.   
  
I kept my voice low as I quickly summarized the situation. It's not like I'm gonna quote everything I said here - 'cause you've already heard it, so it would be boring. I nearly had the kid, grabbed Wazowski, yadda yadda yadda. . .   
  
Anyhow, I knew he'd be mad to hear this, but did I really have any other choice? Waternoose's face got more serious by the moment and he creased his brow as I finished up. "And now, I have the feeling Wazowski and Sullivan are on their way here to tell you."   
  
Waternoose held to his silence for a few moments longer, his five eyes practically staring daggers at me as he thought of what to say. Right then, I was glad I was in the active simulator room. There were other employees in there to witness anything he did. That meant he couldn't do any physical harm to me - which is always a good thing. And by the look he was giving me, I could tell he was seriously considering it too. . .   
  
Finally, he spoke. "I can't believe you let word get out!" he hissed at me. "Don't you know what that's going to do to my plan?"   
  
I cringed a bit under his tone of voice, but I continued to hold my ground. "Look," I defended myself. "It wasn't my fault! Wazowski and Sullivan let the kid out. I tried to get her away from them without revealing anything, but I ended up catching Wazowski! He's already been to my lab and knows almost everything I'm up to. I tried using the Extractor on him, but - "   
  
My excuse/explanation was cut short by my now-furious boss. "Shut up," he snapped. "It looks like I'll have to take matters into my own hands." He sighed, shaking his head. "I'll have to give them the same treatment I gave Yeti."   
  
"Banishment?" I asked.   
  
He nodded, glancing past me for a moment in thought. "Since YOU can't seem to handle things properly," he replied, turning his attention back to me.   
  
I was taken aback by that statement. I knew he'd blame me for it, even though I did everything I could to prevent this.   
  
Now don't get the idea I'm calling myself an innocent angel here. I know the mistakes I made now. Banishment does that to ya. But, truthfully, I DID try my hardest to keep this between me, Fungus, and Waternoose. Just watch the movie again and see for yourselves. I gave them chances. . .   
  
Anyhow, I gave him my best "I'm-so-disgusted-with-you" look. "And how are we going to do this without anyone else knowing?" I asked, motioning to the new employees-in-training across the room.   
  
Waternoose rolled his eyes and gave me HIS best "I'm-so-disgusted-with-you" look. "Just let me take care of that," he replied, pointing his crabby finger at my chest. "YOU just get the door ready - set it to #3462. Understood?"   
  
I sighed. Who was I to argue with Mr. High-and-Mighty? I gave him a slight shoulder shrug. "Yeah," I said flatly. "I understand."   
  
"Good," he said, searching my face for a moment before turning around to join the newbies again.   
  
My blank expression formed into a glare as he turned his back towards me. It was a good thing I was getting something out of being involved in this company scandal, or else I'd have dumped him like a bad habit long ago. That was the only thing that was keeping me hooked on being his partner - despite the bumpy road we were riding on and everything else that got in the way.   
  
I stomped out the door, shoving it open angrilly as I entered into the hallway. Who did he think he was? He wouldn't even have gotten this far if I hadn't agreed to help him! HE'S the one who came to me one day (after rummaging through a bunch employees' personal files) and asked me to help him build a scream extracting machine, offering all kinds of rewards in return for my assistance. It was ridiculous that - all of a sudden - I'M the one subject to blame.   
  
I turned the corner again and made my way towards Scarefloor B - where we got the banishment door last time. I also went there because that floor was the only one (besides A) not active at the time. I snuck inside and dialed up the door code. Waternoose made me memorize it, since keeping the door key - so he says - would be "just another clue for the CDA to follow".   
  
If you ask me, I think he just likes ordering people around.   
  
The metallic door came out of the door vault, down the track, and lowered itself into one of the door stations. I was grumbling to myself as I dialed in the code Waternoose gave me. 3462. . .3462. . .I wonder where that led. Wherever it was, it would be quite a surprise for my rivals.   
  
That idea cheered me up a bit. At least I wouldn't have to deal with them anymore. Always sticking their noses into my business and rubbing their accomplishments in my face in front of everyone. . .   
  
Suddenly, the door unclamped from its station and began lifting up into the air. I vanished and hopped on, clinging to it as it rose to the ceiling. I knew full-well where it was headed. I rode that door through the tunnel running in the opposite direction of the door vault. It coasted for a few moments before entering the simulator room.   
  
I looked down to see Waternoose, the kid, Sullivan, and Wazowski standing there. A smirk crossed my face. Waternoose was tricking them and it was working well. I kept invisible as the door lowered into it's place, then I hopped off.   
  
Wazowski was starting to look unsure of the door and he pointed at it. "Uh, sir. . .that's not her door," he muttered.   
  
"I know, I know," Waternoose said, calm as ever.   
  
Then I appeared and opened the door, a pretty satisfied (but kinda sinister) smirk on my face. Then I motioned with my hand to the inside, where a fierce snow storm was raging.   
  
Then my boss finished, a smirk on his own face. "It's yours."   
  
The shocked expressions on their faces would have been good revenge for me. But, still, I had the urge to push them through the door myself. I didn't, though, it wasn't my job. My boss gave them both a hefty shove and they plummeted into the snow. Sullivan let out one last "NO!" and my boss shut the door, letting me deactivate it immediately afterwards.   
  
That was it. They were gone! My suffering would finally be over!   
  
Pfft. Boy, was I wrong. . .What is it they say all the time? Don't count your chickens before they're hatched? Yeah. I did that and paid for it (as you'll see in the next few chapters).   
  
Big time.   
  
Anyhow, shoving all other thoughts aside, I headed out the door with Waternoose - who had the kid in his arms. Nothing would stop us now.   
  
********************************   
  
"Don't!" came the kid's scared cry as I carried her over to the Scream Extractor chair.   
  
She whimpered pitifully as I strapped her in and shied away from my gaze. For a moment, as I looked at her fearful expression, I felt a slight pang of guilt and pity. I'd seen eyes like those before. . .   
  
My own.   
  
You see, I had been brought up in an orphanage - since my parents died when I was only three - and I was used to abuse by my caretaker. As a little kid, things were obviously not too great for me. It pains me to mention it, but it's true. It was in that moment that I confirmed my suspicion that this human kid wasn't dumb, not more than us. Unlike what monsters are really led to believe, humans seemed to have feelings and emotions just like we do.   
  
Waternoose suddenly broke me out of my thoughts as he spoke. "Finally!"   
  
I turned to face him, trying to rid my expression of all remorse and pity. The last thing I needed was to start getting attached to this kid, knowing full-well that she could be killed by my Scream Extractor. I saw what it did to Fungus and if it did that much to him, I was pretty sure this would not be a pleasant experience for her either.   
  
"I never should have trusted you with this," he went on, glaring. "Because of YOU I had to banish my top scarer!"   
  
I waved him off. "With this machine, we won't need scarers," I replied calmly, then I gave him an annoyed sideways glance. "Besides, Sullivan got what he deserved. . ."   
  
Waternoose gave me an evil glare and jabbed a finger in my direction accusingly. "Sullivan was TWICE the scarer you'll ever be!" he retorted.   
  
I turned my head and bared my teeth, giving him a hateful growl deep from within my throat.   
  
That comment cut me deeply. All my life, I've heard people say I wouldn't ever amount to anything. That I'd never accomplish anything but failure for the rest of my miserable life. It was as if no one believed I had a purpose. I so badly wanted to prove them all wrong, and now here was my boss saying exactly the same thing.   
  
It made me furious and all the old hurt resurfaced again, blocking out any care I had for the kid left. She was my ticket to respect and I'd do what I had to to get it. Scream Extractor or not.   
  
"Turn on the machine," Waternoose ordered, totally ignoring my response.   
  
I soon joined Fungus at the control panel and he turned a knob, causing the SE to rev up. I watched, a smirk forming on my face as I watched. I was thinking of all the recognition and respect I'd be getting after this. The reward I'd finally get once all of this was over. I'd been waiting all of my life for sucess at something and here it was, waiting to be proved.   
  
Now was my moment. Finally, for once in my life, something would be going right.   
  
The kid squirmed in her seat, trying to get away from the approaching nozzle. "No! Kitty!" she begged.   
  
I kept watching, hoping that my machine would work without interference this time. The smirk on my face got wider. My boss also seemed to hardened his expression as it got increasingly closer to her face. Suddenly, the worse thing that could happen - happened.   
  
"RROOAARR!!" came Sullivan's explosive growl.   
  
The guy just seems to pop out of everywhere nowadays. I was beyond shocked to see that and, obviously, I wasn't alone. Fungus and Waternoose were also equally shocked.   
  
"Kitty!" the kid squealed in delight as he grabbed my months of hard work and just ripped it off of the mechanical arm as if it were a skinny tree branch.   
  
And it didn't stop there. Oh no.   
  
He then got the concept that it would be a good idea to toss it at us, damaging it even more than it already was. It was like something from "The Hulk". I shot Waternoose a panicked glance - as if to say, "What do we do now??" But he never returned it, his gaze was still on Sullivan. Heh. Yeah. I bet HE was glad to see his beloved "top scarer" again.   
  
I was still kinda in a state of shock. My mind wouldn't work as I watched my machine slid towards us. How'd he get back??   
  
The machine quickly approached, pinning my boss and Fungus between it and the wall. I simply lept to the wall and watched Sullivan grab the kid.   
  
"Kitty!" she said.   
  
He picked her up. "Sorry Boo," he replied.   
  
Boo? Is that what he called her? Hm. Fine. So be it. But if he thought he was going to run off with her, he had another thing coming. I bared my teeth menacingly, trying to think of a logical thing to do. My mind was racing. Also, the anger welling up in me seemed to overshadow anything else my mind was telling me.   
  
"Stop him!" Waternoose ordered to me.   
  
I let out a low growl and vanished. Little did I realize, he was using me as his own personal "attack dog". I also concluded, after a long time of thought in Lousiana, that if I got rid of them for him, the authorities would find ME instead of HIM guilty for murder. Waternoose, basically, wanted to get rid of them but didn't want the evidence on his hands - in case the CDA caught wind of this. So, he played on my jealousy and blinding anger to get the job done.   
  
Now, does anyone besides me think he's a manipulative, money-hungry CEO? If ya don't, just keep reading carefully and I might make my point clear to you all. For the record, he's pulled the "sick 'em!" routine on me more than once. . .   
  
Flipping back to the story: I spotted Sullivan grabbing the kid's card key as I slithered over to him. Immediately, I knew what he was up to. And it wasn't going to happen. Not if I had anything to do with it. Swiftly, I climbed the pipe above him, hung on, and swung the rest of my body forward - landing a hit squarely in his face.   
  
He fell backwards and I lept to the ground with the grace of a cat. I landed a few more blows on him, trying to make him let go of the kid - just long enough for me to swipe her and run off. All I needed was the kid, but a call from waternoose changed my mind. . .   
  
"Finish him off!" he yelled from another part of the lab.   
  
For the moment, I gladly would have done so. In fact, I tried. But my body was too exhausted from all of the work and stress piled on me for the past month, that I just couldn't give the fight my best stuff. I kept invisible, too, precisely for that reason. I knew that, if Sullivan managed to land a hit, I'd be down indefinately. I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to summon the will-power to get up again if that happened. Better to be safe than sorry. . .   
  
Hey, he couldn't hit anything he couldn't see, right?   
  
So, I continued to beat the stuffing outta him, but he still wasn't going down. I had to admit, I could have done better, but the odds were against me for the moment. Then I spotted it. A scream canister. Then an idea popped into my mind.   
  
I hefted the canister into my upper hands and swung it at Sullivan with all my might. Quickly, I lept to the overhead pipes and hung on with my tail, lowering myself into Sullivan's face. I slowly appeared, a satisfied, toothy grin on my face.   
  
"You don't know how long I've wanted to do THAT, Sullivan!" I told him, clenching my fists before disappearing again.   
  
He swung at me, but I was too fast for him. Do you REALLY think I'd wanna be hit by THOSE claws? I'd be nursing wounds like that for weeks. So, I played on the safe side. Not that I'm a coward or anything. Don't even SAY I'm scared of Sullivan. But I wanted to be able to keep my job - my livelihood - and, most of all, I was desperate for this to come to a stop.   
  
I continued landing punch after punch. It did some damage, but nothing more than knocking him temporarily senseless. None of the hits I was giving him were working like I wanted. So, I gave him a final roundhouse kick, using my tail to whip him forcefully to the ground.   
  
Just then, Wazowski came in, hitting Sullivan with a snowball. He looked up groggily. "Mike?!?"   
  
"Look, it's not that I don't care about the kid," Wazowski was saying, totally unaware of the situation.   
  
Sullivan swung at me again. "Mike, you don't understand."   
  
"Yes, I do. I was just mad, that's all," he continued, turning his back to us. "I needed some time to think. But you shouldn't have left me out there."   
  
Naturally, I resumed landing punch after punch at Sullivan as they debated their personal issues. It was a nice distraction, if I do say so myself. I slammed Sullivan against the nearest pipe, using my body strength to pin him there, and I bent his arm behind him. This was getting really frustrating that I wasn't doing much more than putting bruises all over his furry body. So, I started trying other options.   
  
"I'm being attacked!" he managed to blurt out to Wazowski.   
  
Too bad he's not all that perceptive. Because he TOTALLY missed Sullivan's point. At the moment, he was kinda in his own little world. Which was lucky for me, I suppose.   
  
"No, I'm not attacking you," Wazowski continued, turning towards us again and pacing. And - as you know - I just continued beating Sullivan to a pulp. "I'm trying to be honest. Just hear me out. You and I are a team. Nothing is more important than our friendship."   
  
The kid then ran up to Wazowski - proving that she's more perceptive than even him - and began whimpering. He STILL didn't get it. "I - I - I know kid," he said. "He's too sensitive."   
  
Finally, fed up with all of this and letting my anger get the better of me, I began to wrap my muscular body around Sullivan's neck and squeezed with all my might. Maybe that'd shut him up, in case he decided to reveal anything else he knew to Wazowski before I did him in. He gasped for air and, of course, Wazowski amazingly kept jabbering on.   
  
"Come on, pal," he continued. "If you start crying, I'm going to cry. . .and I'll never get through this. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you - but I am now.   
  
"Ow!" Sullivan cried.   
  
Wazowski sounded outraged now, still oblivious to the situation at hand. "Sulley, I am bearing my soul here. The least you could do is pay attention!" Poor, clueless Wazowski. . .   
  
WHAM!   
  
I was abruptly hit in the face (and blinded) by one of his snowballs. I swear, Sullivan craned his neck just slightly, KNOWING I'd be hit. Smart move. I'll give him that much. But then he added insult to injury, by slamming me in the jaw with his fist. I was out cold, sliding to the floor.   
  
I don't remember what happened between then and waking up but, when I began to come to, I had a terrible heaviness on my head. I knew I'd be suffering badly if Sullivan managed to land a punch. And, boy, was I right. . .   
  
I didn't want to get up. For the moment, all I could think about was my poor, throbbing brain. But Waternoose yelled at me, sounding angry that I hadn't done my "duty". "Get up!" he demanded. "There can't be any witnesses!"   
  
You know, now that I think about it, Waternoose could have easily just gotten out from behind that Scream Extractor and gotten rid of them HIMSELF. But he didn't. Again, he called upon ME to get them, instead. But I wasn't thinking clearly - at ALL, now - so I dragged myself to my eight feet.   
  
I turned my head towards my boss' voice (though I couldn't see 'im) and frowned angrilly. "There WON'T be," I replied firmly.   
  
I forced myself to stand to my feet. It took alot of will-power to get myself to move on but, hey, Waternoose promised me everything I've ever wanted. How could I give up now? So, I stomped around the corner, scanning the room for someone. Then I spotted him. Fungus was cowering behind the Scream Extractor, covering his head.   
  
"Fungus!" I snapped annoyedly.   
  
He jumped to attention and looked up at me. "Y-y-yes?"   
  
"You're coming with me. Got that?" I replied, eyeing him.   
  
Fungus wordlessly nodded and that was all the confirmation I needed before running out the lab exit. It was time for one final shot at shutting those two up. The last chance, I knew, I'd ever have. Fungus and I emerged from the secret exit and into the hallway. I knew those two were heading for the Scarefloor. So I went in that direction, shoving everyone out of my way as I followed the trail. 


	6. Battle in the Door Vault

**A Different Point of View   
By Randall Boggs**   
  
RANDALL'S NOTE: I couldn't bear to say much about my life after banishment, so I left off a bit after my last scene in the movie. I hope you've enjoyed hearing my side of "Monsters Inc". But I also hope you've learned something about looking beyond outside appearances and taking a closer look at what's on the inside before you jump to conclusions about someone. As I like to say, "Beauty is only scale-deep". ^_^   
  
**************************************************

  
  
**Chapter Six - Battle In The Door Vault**   
  
I entered the main MI hallway and spotted Wazowski and Sullivan running straight towards Scarefloor F. Perfect. I was right on their tails! I ran towards them. And then, wouldn't ya know it? Some blockhead wheels his scream canister cart right in front of my path.   
  
"Move it! Look out, you!" I lept over the cart, knocking over some of the canisters in the process and glanced back at the monster. "Idiot!"   
  
Momentarily, I lost sight of Sullivan, Wazowski, and the kid. But I knew where they were heading and I wasn't about to give up now. I shoved another monster outta my way and walked onto the Scarefloor, scanning the large room for the two offenders. I finally spotted a movement of blue and purple fur and pointed.   
  
"There they are!" I called, no longer very worried about other employees seeing me.   
  
I narrowed my eyes at the two, Fungus approaching my side, and began stomping towards them. I had the full intent to end this now. No more games. No more chances. I gave them way too many chances to keep out of this as it was. It was no more Mr. Nice Monster anymore; this was more serious than losing my job. The extent that Waternoose was attached to this scheme was clear to me. He'd do ANYTHING to keep this a secret - and flatten anyone who happened to let the secret get out. That would include me.   
  
So, yes, you could say I was a bit desperate. . .And anyone in my situation would be too.   
  
Anyways, I was gonna go over there to give them a piece of my mind, when suddenly the P.A. system came to life. "Attention employees, Randall Boggs has just broken the all-time scare record!"   
  
It was Celia.   
  
Before I could take a step further, my path was blocked by dozens of monsters. Shocked by the announcement and the coming onslaught, I took a step back as Fungus and I were surrounded by this crowd.   
  
"Huh? No I didn't!" I exclaimed, trying to push through the forest of co-workers. "Get out of my way!"   
  
Now, you might be wondering why in the world I'd pass up the opportunity to be called the new "All-Time Scare Record Holder". Well, it's very simple: I didn't do it. You see, I'm not willing to take credit for such an accomplishment if I didn't rightfully earn it. Sure, I wanted to break the record, but I wanted to do it rightfully - fairly. Unlike what you hear from Wazowski, I don't cheat - at least, I don't TRY to.   
  
"Get off of my tail!" I demanded, completely fed up by now. "Let me through!" Finally, after some persistant pushing and shoving, I broke out of the circle.   
  
Leaving Fungus to fend for himself, I resumed my pursuit of Sullivan, Wazowski, and the kid. Ceila had bought them just enough time to make their getaway. I found the both of them hitching a ride on one of the doors as they were all sent back to the vault. They weren't getting away that easily though; two could play that game.   
  
I slithered up the metal docking rod and lept onto the yellow door that hung right above me. Then the conveyor began to move us towards the vault. Personally, I had no idea why these guys were trying to ruin my life by taking this kid from me. I thought, nearly the whole time, that all of this was just a personal assault on me and my career. Really! I didn't know Sullivan had any real attachment to this kid until it was. . .well. . .too late.   
  
We rode through a dark tunnel and Wazowski was blabbering on about something "simple yet insane". As they rode a few doors ahead of me, I figured that I'd start closing the gap between us; perhaps I'd have a better chance of grabbing the kid before we had something serious going on here.   
  
I approached the light at the end of the tunnel and it opened up into a gigantic room filled to the brim with doors. I've never been there before and, yes, it was quite a sight to see. But, sight-seeing aside, I wasn't enjoying the ride; I had work to do. I kept my eyes on the door Sullivan and Wazowski were riding as I sat comfortably on my own door. When I found the opportunity, I lept to the door ahead of me in an attempt to close the gap even more until I was only one door away from them.   
  
I was gonna make the final jump, when I was cut off at an intersection. My door went one way and theirs went another. I let out a growl of frustration as I watched their door diminish into a speck. How was I gonna get to them now? It didn't take me long to come up with a solution. Looking at the door I was riding on, the idea hit me. Swiftly, I slithered down the door frame and opened the door, hopping inside an Indonesian kid's room.   
  
I scanned the area and headed out of the hut. Standing outside, in the humid jungle, I thought surely there would be another hut nearby. I scared a couple of pesky dogs and ran inside another home. Took me about five seconds to find the closet and I opened it, finding myself in exactly the place I wanted to be: a few doors down from Sullivan and Wazowski. In fact, I was so close I could hear them talking.   
  
Leaping gracefully up to the slot, I peeked around a door. Sure enough, there they were. Then, suddenly, I heard the kid laughing and then a rush of energy as her voice filled the vault. The doors came to life again and I, again, lept on the approaching door; it was heading straight for them.   
  
Sullivan's voice sounded urgent now and I could hear what he was saying: "Get it open!"   
  
Looks like I was gonna be stuck playing a game of "cat and mouse". But, unfortunately for them, I was REALLY not in the mood for games. . .   
  
"Give me that kid!" I shouted, leaping in after them.   
  
_*WHAM!*_   
  
The door slammed in my face and pain shot through my head like a San Francisco earthquake; I slumped down to the track below my feet. If I didn't feel good before, this one really did me in. My mood was downright sour now as I pulled myself to my feet and threw the door open. I jumped inside to find myself on a very Hawaii-like island; palm trees, sand, beach, blue sky - the whole shebang. But Sullivan and Wazowski weren't there.   
  
I followed their footprints in the sand to an adjacent home and follwed them to the vault once again. I threw the door open and quickly looked around me. No sign of them. But, thanks to my wonderful sense of smell, I used my tongue to taste the air and followed them though, yes, another door. Surprising, huh?   
  
This time, I ended up somewhere in Japan. Still no sign of those two and the kid. Yet again, they had managed to keep a step ahead of me. So, was I gonna give up? Ha! No way. I simply followed them, led by their faint scent trail. I could tell I was gaining ground. Back in the vault, I spotted them right ahead of me, riding a couple of doors down to one of the many maintainence platforms they have there. I lept comfortably from one door to another with ease and followed them to the platform.   
  
Though they tried to lose me, it's too bad they never counted on me using my tongue to track them down. Heh heh.   
  
I was gradually catching up. They were so close I could feel it! I flung another door open and jumped inside a room in Paris, growling fiercely. I expected them to be there, but they weren't. So, I dropped the growl and went out the open door up ahead of me. I stopped for a moment at the doorway, wondering to myself why they left it open for me. But I figured it was a stupid thing to be wondering about and prepared to jump to another door, when it slammed closed.   
  
My fronds were painfully pinned in the gap between the door and the frame. I winced as the door not only slammed on my fronds but rammed into my head as well. I felt dizziness and sharp pain all at once. It was terrible. Outside I could hear Wazowski taunting me as I carefully held my head near the door.   
  
"Hope that one hurt, Lizard Boy!" he said, laughing.   
  
I was hurt alright. Mentally and physically. But his mocking words cut me deeper than anything physical ever could. I hated being called "Lizard Boy". It was basically a racial slur to my species. But that just made me all the more angry with them. I carefully opened the door, my brain throbbing in my head as I stood upright again. My fronds didn't feel much better. But I ignored the pain and narrowed my eyes at Sullivan and Wazowski as they began growing smaller and smaller.   
  
I growled from deep within my throat and caught up to them, quickly hopping from one door to another in my usual fashion. That little "prank" was the last straw for me. I had had it with them; in other words. . .they were going down. Literally.   
  
Vanishing from sight, I waited for the right moment to pounce. But, suddenly as I came, I saw the kid starting to slip out from Sullivan's grip. Quick as lightning, I slid under Sullivan's feet and snatched the kid before she could slip out totally. He gasped in surprise, calling out her name again. Then I slithered to the top of the track and appeared, the kid now in my own arms. I smiled deviously and laughed, taking the pin out of the door. . .thing. . .whatever ya wanna call it. I'm not gonna get technical here.   
  
They then plummeted towards the very, very distant ground below, screaming and shouting and all that.   
  
I simply smirked to myself and threw the pin down with them. "Nice working with ya!"   
  
Standing there for not a moment longer, I lept across to another door. Now, here's the question of the moment: What do I do with the kid now? That ran though my head. Sullivan and Wazowski were gone; I had the kid. I smiled in a satisfactory way as I lept to a brown door up ahead. The kid fussed a bit in my arms and tried to wiggle out of my grip - but I held her close, preventing a nasty fall.   
  
The kid seemed to be smart enough to get the message; if she fell, she wouldn't survive. Immediately, she quieted down, though a look of uneasiness still overshadowed her face. It was as if she had calmed down a bit more around me and realized I wasn't gonna hurt her. Hey, don't get any ideas here, I wasn't meaning to do her any harm in the first place. If I was, I could've just let her plummet to the ground with her buddies.   
  
I'm not heartless; she was getting her chance.   
  
Finally, I settled on a decision: I was gonna return the kid back to her room and tell Waternoose that I killed her along with Sullivan and Wazowski. Then maybe I'd be able to keep my job, sustain minimal punishment, and I wouldn't have to go broke. Now, that would be degrading. Yeah. I didn't have a very good paycheck (unless you consider $4.75 an hour for maximum labor "good") and job opportunities for reptile-monsters are rare these days (actually, I can't remember a time when it was any different).   
  
Suddenly, I heard a loud, annoying banging coming from behind me. I looked and then I wish I hadn't. There was Sullivan; not dead, not hurt, not even scratched - hanging on to a door directly behind me. One could say I was shocked. Oh, what an understatement that is. . .   
  
All of my plans suddenly crumbled. In a rush, I flung the door I was riding on open, leaping inside and shutting it behind me. I stood in the darkness, my mind racing. How in the name of Monstropolis did Sullivan survive? And where was Wazowski? Why did they STILL want this kid? Did they hate me so much that they were willing to do anything to ruin my life? It was utterly confusing and, right there, I felt much like a cornered animal; just trying to survive and having nowhere to run to.   
  
I wrestled with the thought of killing Sullivan and Wazowski myself; making sure the job was done right. But I wasn't sure. Nonetheless, Waternoose's words still taunted me, echoing in the back of my mind. . .   
  
_Finish him off!. . . .There can't be any witnesses!_   
  
Should I really kill them off? The thought, I'll admit, was VERY tempting. I mean, after all they had put me through, it was one of those options on the "extreme" side of the spectrum.   
  
I thought of the agony they had caused me throughout the last year of my career and the past few days; it made me think about that option seriously now. They're the kind of monsters who wouldn't hesitate to confess everything to the authorities and have me arrested. . .and fired. . .and Monstropolis-knows-what-else. The risk was one I'd rather not take.   
  
I instantaneously blended into my surroundings and gently set the kid down on the carpet; she would be the bait. Then I waited, clinging to the ceiling. It would all be over with in a few moments. . .   
  
Just then, the door burst open and in came Sullivan. I was a bit surprised to hear the kid call out, "Kitty!" Sullivan replied with an equally happy greeting. That's when I began to realize what he was really pursuing her for. They had some kind of emotional connection. I also realized what I saw in her that I was craving: love.   
  
Yeah. Pretty pathetic, I know, but I hardly ever felt that when I was her age. I began to feel suddenly jealous of Sullivan's bond with her. What was it she saw in him that she didn't see in me? I treated her as well as one in my position could. Sure, I hate kids, but I just don't know how to act around them. I, myself, had to grow up faster than I wanted to. Childhood was barely a fog for me; I couldn't remember what being a kid was like.   
  
Finally, all these feelings muddled up inside of me, I channeled all of my aggression into one explosive swing. It hit Sullivan full in the face, the impact causing him to tumble out the doorway. Now, only his hands were keeping him from plummeting to the ground, several hundred yards down. I stood right in front of him, my emotions and anger finally boiling over.   
  
"Look at everybody's favorite scarer now," I announced, glaring at him fiercely as I spoke. "You stupid, pathetic waste!"   
  
I then brang my foot down on his fingers, a slight crunching sound coming from them as he let go. He now hung by one hand. The door swung side-to-side as I continued my speech - most likely the last one he'd ever hear from me, before I got rid of him.   
  
I leaned into his face, letting him see my displeasure. "You've been number one for too long, Sullivan," I said solidly, placing my foot on his other hand and pressing down. "And now your time is up!"   
  
I stood up straight, applying more pressure to his fingers, then leaned in once more. "And don't worry," I added, my voice still edged with anger. "I'll take good care of the kid."   
  
"No!" Sullivan cried.   
  
Just before I could give his fingers the final crunch, I felt something hop on my back and grab my fronds. Of course, it was the kid. She pulled back roughly on my fronds and I yelled out in pain, rearing backwards. I automatically reacted by changing to every color of the rainbow. She continued to inflict pain on me as I ran into a wall shelf, sliding down it. Now, understand this, she pulls my fronds left, I go left; she pulls them right, I go right. I have no control over where she pulls my head. I just don't want her to pull my fronds off.   
  
Then she grabs this convinent baseball bat off the floor and starts bashing me over the head with it. Understandably, I'm a bit - no, alot - angry with this. Even this KID's taking Sullivan's side! I guess two-year-olds are kinda oblivious to hurt feelings and all that. Either that or she was wrapped up in being the little heroine and saving her obnoxious, spotted throwrug.   
  
Finally, as if to add insult to injury, Sullivan grabs me by the neck and pulls me towards him, this sickening smirk on his face. He had me. I fought the best I could against him, but it was in vain. He was only choking me and I was only running out of oxygen, so thus I was running out of the energy to fight.   
  
Then the kid began roaring at me. I simply looked at her in frustration, my mind fixed on getting a good breath of air - which Sullivan wasn't obliging to give to me. I finally relaxed, hoping like crazy he'd loosen his grip for a moment so I could breathe normally again, but instead he taunted me. . .   
  
"She's not scared of you anymore," he said.   
  
"Rawwr!" the kid roared again.   
  
Sullivan then leaned into my face, smirking. "Looks like you're out of a job."   
  
Those were words I dreaded to hear and my eyes widened; I gulped down the lump that was rising in my throat at the mention. In that moment, I knew getting angry with Sullivan wouldn't get me anywhere. My expression instantaneously turned from an angry one into a pitiful, pleading one.   
  
Was he going to kill me instead? Or something else? I couldn't think of anything worse than what he had just told me, because that meant I really was bound to go bankrupt along with the shame I'd, no doubt, get from these two telling their story to others. I wiggled my neck in Sullivan's grip, managing to get him to loosen it a bit. I took a big gulp of air as he carried me like a dead chicken out the door.   
  
The kid approached the edge of the doorway and Sullivan picked her up into his arms. I watched as she threw the tentacles of her costume around his neck and hugged him. Sullivan smiled warmly at her and whispered something unintelligible, making the both of them chuckle. It made me sad just watching them; it was as if I wasn't even there. That pitiful expression hung on my face as Sullivan carried me and the kid to one of the platforms.   
  
I was too emotionally-depravated at the moment, I didn't even bother to say anything. The weight of the endless days of sleeplessness, work, effort, and everything that had occured were finally catching up with me. It wasn't because I was a wimp - no way - I simply didn't have the energy or motivation to fight anymore.   
  
Sullivan lept down to the platform, where Wazowski was waiting. I saw a door setting against the railway and, suddenly, the idea hit me like a freight train. My eyes widened again and I struggled in Sullivan's grip as he set the kid down and dragged me by the neck to a spot right across from Wazowski. . .and the door.   
  
"Sullivan, please, just listen to me for a moment," I whimpered, my voice stooping to a pitiful plead for help; for someone to understand. "I-I can explain!"   
  
"All right, come on, over the plate," Wazowski interrupted me, opening the door.   
  
Sullivan seemed to pay no attention to my pleads, either, pathetic as they may have been. I couldn't believe I was stooping so low as to beg these two to have mercy on me, but right now was no time to let my pride get in the way. I was beyond desperate now. I knew they were going to banish me heaven-knows-where and I definately DID NOT want to go without getting them to hear my side of the story.   
  
Unfortunately, they weren't that accomodating. . .   
  
"Let's see the ol' stuff here, pal," Wazowski continued, crouching like a baseball catcher.   
  
Sullivan grabbed my tail and neck, then began swinging me towards the open door. "Come on, now, chuck him, chuck him, baby. Hum baby. Hum baby. Here's the pitch!"   
  
"Wait, please, don't, don't, don't!!" I begged as the time came nearer to the big toss. "Noooooo!" Then it came; Sullivan chucked me through the door and Wazowski slammed it shut.   
  
The last words I ever heard from them was this: "And he is - outta here!"   
  
I skidded across the wooden floor. In a panic, I got up and flung the closet door open. To my horror, Wazowski had already deactivated the door - or worse. I grabbed my head in defeat and slunk to my knees in silent sorrow. I couldn't cry; I didn't have the energy. It scared me to think I was stuck in the middle of nowhere in the HUMAN WORLD without anyone but them knowing. No one would be able to find me. I'd live the rest of his life here!   
  
I heard some footsteps approaching behind me and I slowly got up, turning to face them. I took a couple of steps into the light, so I could see them better. A human kid in a red "Pizza Planet" cap was standing there, then he pointed at me.   
  
"Mama, 'nother gator got in the house," he said.   
  
A lady approached his side and stared at me. "Another gator?!" she exclaimed, turning to her son. "Gimme that shovel! Come on!"   
  
My eyes widened again and I glanced at the door, only a few feet away from me. But before I could make the move towards it, the lady slammed her shovel down upon my head - hard. I cried out in pain. Then she responded by hitting me again, and again, and again, and. . .well, you get my point. I was completely in pain, not sure if my arm was still there cuz it was so numb, and tried to crawl towards the door.   
  
"Get 'em, Mama! Get that gator!" the son rooted, hopping up and down.   
  
"Put a pot of jambalaya on the stove, son! We're gonna be havin' gator tonight!" the lady said, turning to him after a few more shovel whacks.   
  
Yup, you got it right. They weren't trying to get me out; they were trying to KILL me! I was determined not to become somebody's dinner, so I took advantage of the distraction she was creating for herself and flung the door open. I then crawled down the stairs and glanced over my shoulder.   
  
"The gator's gettin' away! Hand me my rifle!" she exclaimed, putting the shovel down and heading out of view.   
  
I quickly made myself invisible and slunk into the swamp, luckily evading more pain and becoming part of a pot of jambalaya. . .   
  


**THE END   
(maybe ^_~)**


End file.
